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“When we collide again, I’ll help you pick up the stars. You’ll help me pick up the planets”.–Sam B

A young friend emailed me this today, part of a longer composition that contained many great lines. #jobblesslings. Friend, you know who you are, and I thank you. I poem for you, tonight.  And I steal your lines. Because they rock.

That email makes the last day of vacation more bearable. Even though I may make out that I’d prefer to remain pajama’d and barefooted for the rest of forever, truth told, I’m glad to be going back to work tomorrow. Our house is in order, or at least in more order than it has been for a long time, and routine is good for us.  Also, my job rocks. I work with awesome and genuine people, which is reward enough. Plus,  I’m still thinking about last night’s show, which was really stunning. I might even go again next weekend.

I’ve gotta poem fast, because this is our last night of vacation, and I’d like to spend part of it sitting on the couch with HP. We are quite good at that. In fact, we could probably medal in couch-sitting and snarky comments. Word.

When We Collide Again

When we collide again, it will be as equals,
because we always were.  Genius does not know youth,
and youth doesn’t give a shit,
but we spotted you right out the gate.
When we fought for your steps, in the meetings upstairs,
we meant it. Growing always, we’ll be in touch soon with the touch screens,
and eventually wish for another
‘movie hallway book collision in space’,
and eventually we will all realize that it takes
‘energy to make great mistakes Matter’.
When we meet again, young bright friend,
it will be no time at all whatsoever.
It will be a tesseract.
It will be a folding in time,
a folding of the space napkin,
that brings bright thoughts together,
and when we collide again,
there will be a spacious recognition
of this age.

*******************

Okay. I go to couch. Some of you can guess the wiseman for whom I poem, and it would be fun if you tried. Most of you will not get it, but then, that’s the fun in it. Happy Sunday, poemies. Luck to your Mondays.

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