As life explodes from every corner of our consciousness,
For the petals of blossoms
Dropping from the trees.
Were it not for the antique truck on someone's lawn
Which I drive by every day -- twice
-- undertaking that part of life you might call routine
under an apple tree this whole time
Today it is a delivery truck from the 1920s
Struck anew by the sight of it
dusted perfectly with the petals
of those sweet and fleeting blossoms.
What does it take to cut through
the trance of living
To feel the life force moving
Always moving
With news for the world
Sitting still in the awesome light of the morning
A storied and stately bier
Serenely bearing its diaphanous cargo,
mottled pink/white,
An exquisite garment
without a body
to cover
