Complicated Reality

An intriguing woman asked me to a picnic date.

She was charming and disarming so I said it sounds great.

We picked a date and then I waited, patient but excited.

I almost didn't notice when the sky and sun decided

not to bother with their dance, and just kinda hung out.

Like at 2 in the morning, the sun's still out.

It's just not going down and the moon is not around,

but I have a date coming up so you won't find my frown.

I find her at the park, we pull out snacks and trade smiles.

We chat and we flirt and I notice all the while

that the way that the sun brightens up her face

feels like a master class in light in space.

She catches my gaze and asks "Well, do you like it?"

I didn't quite follow, so she pointed at the sky with

a finger and a squint. "The sun's in the right position

to light our picnic perfect. Or that's what I was wishin'."

"You did that?" I asked, putting two and two together.

"Are you, what, a witch with control over the weather?"

She let out a giggle that was distinctly not a cackle

"Dear, the things I do aren't the result of babble,

or bubbling pots or casting lots. It's a different kind of energy.

The universe and I have a special kind of synergy.

No divinity in me. I'm as human as you are,

but more in tune with the rhythm of the seas and the stars.

Don't be alarmed, I'm not saying this to intimidate,

but we ought to get to know each other on our first date."

I filled another plate, handed it to her and I said

"This may be a lot to take in, but I've got an open head.

I think I'd like to learn about you, learn to like you, maybe love.

And I don't think I'll mind if the bright sky above

sticks around for a thousand hours, or just a couple more.

Night time with you is something I'd like to explore.

I think that days with you sound like a lot more fun

than the days where I knew what would happen to the sun."