there were Gods in the clouds

Ode To Joy!

it's the Moonlight Sonata,

tripping up everyone who lent an ear,

hoping to become

someone great,

watching the spinning wheels of fate

tossing tarot cards

against a nondescript wall,

listening for the mystics' call;

but i don't really know

why everyone has come to the show:

some are sunning on the beach,

just out of reach

of the high tide,

listening to the muse

playing soft and low

with nowhere else to go;

or jumping inside a potato sack,

listening to the cheering crowd,

without looking back

at what might have been.

and i see

one reading Vonnegut,

sipping tea

with the parlor ladies,

asking for just one more

cup before the coming war

closes hearts and minds,

then shuts the door.

and an Indian near Bengal

heard the call

but stayed home

writing his book 

about the exhausting toll it took

to wear a coat and tie.

he couldn't tell a lie.

and a lady near Hong Kong

kept repeating the same song

inside her head,

not out on the street

where it became too dangerous to meet

anyone with an individual thought.

she was afraid of being caught.

in Romania,

a brave soul screamed alone

when she found an old bone

that reminded her of herself.

she quickly returned it to the shelf.

on the gulf coast near Iran,

a disturbance roiled the waves

near the ending of the days,

yet no one cared,

while everyone seemed scared.

and in a domed house made of ice,

the frozen floor was lined with furs;

even caribou heard muffled talk

about what was his and what was hers.

in Peru,

where everyone already knew

there were Gods in the clouds,

babies were born wearing funeral shrouds

but their mothers' loved them just the same.

they knew it took more than two to play the game.

and the party was just getting started!

whatever it is,

it's not for the fainthearted.

the pages have already been torn

even as more people are being born.