A Call

I was looking for you in the garden The shadows under the trees perforated night skies I found it hard to see in the glare The only response to a call was the rustle of leaves; birdsong Your name diffusing through the undulations in the air The kitchen doors were open I checked the fridge before continuing Skipping stairs was a stretch but still a habit Years later, a couple lanes away from where we lived I watched an asteroid break up on entry Bright limbs streaking across a black sky What were the chances? Miracles unfolding overhead Drinking in the park I can never explain the pit in my stomach Frantic, nervous pacing through the house If we act like things are not spiraling out of hand Does that make them so? If a thought goes unspoken, does that erase it? The unbrushed belief when my friend died Decades later, that subconscious echoes carried him through me But it never rears its head when it can be reasoned with The world ends on a quiet weekend Not through diagnoses, emergencies, collapses Although I hate thinking that memories bend Cars are still parked outside If the rapture had happened, why was it unrecognizable? Why is the sky blue? Why did no one tell me? That these things not announce themselves And when I found you, you told me to wash my hands That I've been playing outside And spoke nothing of the end of the world Does that mean it never happened? --- A Call - EDEN