Tuesday Morning

On Tuesday morning
the sun flashed purple for
a second or less but
I saw it transform the world
around it, and it was good.

A simple moment, almost
easy in its derivation
from the complexity I’d grown
to believe was inherent
in the nature of things,
but it was good. Almost

a lie, almost a fib even
told straightforwardly enough
you could honestly swear by it
though you had not seen it yourself;
you would find a way to agree
with it. It was good.

After all, the sun does not change
every day and on the days it does
I know I have to believe in it;
even for a fraction of a second,
the sun turned the world purple
and you and I were bound to it
even though you did not see it
directly.

Marvelous sun —
for a piece of holy time this was
a violet world, no matter
how you saw it, no matter
your experience of it and it
was good. 

““““““““““““““““““““`
onward,
T