Piano Bar Epiphany

The Piano Bar Man
is Playing through
His Stack of Requests
for Elton John and
Billy Joel and
Simon and Garfunkel,

When It
Comes to Me:

Every Face
at Every Table,

Talking, or
Eyes Closed, Enraptured, or
Busy With Chewing;

Every Face
at Every Table,

an Expression of
The Maker.

Of a Sudden
I am Teary-Eyed and
Look Away, Embarrassed.

Sorry for Staring.

When It
Comes To Me:

The Piano Man
Is My Maker, Too!

We Are
Being Entertained
by The Maker!

Oh, My God!

He’s Playing
“I Love You Just the Way You Are.”

I’m Going to Lose It!

Right Here
In the Piano Bar.

I Hope
I Have Enough
for a Hefty Tip.

(Photo by Rob Simmons; UnSplash)

 

Expectations

Have You Been Living
In a Cosmos
With a Cosmology of
Expectations?

Did The Ones
Who Gave Birth
to You
Believe that
the Higher
Their Expectations
the Higher
You Would Rise?

Did The Ones
Who Presided Over
Your Classrooms
Measure Your
Grade Point Average
on a Curve of
Expectations?

Did The Ones
Who Sign Your
Paychecks
Measure the Dollars in
Expectations?

Were You Led
to Believe
That The Maker of
All That Is,
The Designer of
Your Singular Soul,
Measured That Soul
With a Ruler
Marked with
Expectations?

That There Is
An Eternal Price
To Be Paid,
Reward or Punishment,
Judgment to Be Assessed
in Units of
Divine Expectations?

What If
The Love That
Formed You,
The Light That
Holds All That Is,
The Laughter That
Dissolves The Fear of
Imagined Separation from
The Divine . . .

What If
The Love Who
Adores You
Has No
Expectations?

(Photo by Paul Campbell; UnSplash)