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MYSTICAL SYMPHONY

Do you remember the morning
we cruised the brick streets sleek with rain
in the heart of our city? As we turned right
into a certain alley, the windshield wipers sweeping
flecks of wet into a fine veneer
kept time with the radio's drumbeats.
At one note and glide of the wipers,
a man in the back of a pick-up truck
in the pearly fog-glazed daylight ahead of us
lifted a brown cardboard box,
at the next he handed it to a second man
on he curb, who at the next relayed it through
a store's rear door to someone unseen inside
as the first man hefted another box . . .
the cycle continued until the radio's music
changed, the rain slackened, and we steered
left onto a wider, emptier road.

Did you feel everything move to a single rhythm,
one pulse pushing through as much of
the world as we can experience at once?
Tell me you did; tell me we also united.
Tell me I didn't imagine the mystical symphony
I heard with my spirit's ear
which may never play itself for me again.

Learn more about this author, Robert Levine.
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