Bliss

In the wake of the coming departure Opportunities are opening up Future synchronicities and eccentricities Begin to orbit in the distance Your eyes can only see things far away now I know when the dust resettles This place may feel Like an empty cathedral- All the monk's gone on retreat; Or a deserted schoolyard, Lessons all ended And the merry go round still making A few hapless rotations Only under its own steam. All the children of summer Living happily without shoes, Safe from subversion Still assured of the parental counter-weight Even as you go bobbing away, Upward into the jet stream, On your own untethered flight of bliss.