Tonight was a poetry night. I spent two hours with three kids escaping from reality by watching the local Credit Union's annual PR coup - the Outdoor Free Movie. With Free Popcorn! and Games! We viewed the new Suess story "The Lorax". I almost hugged the tree we locked our bikes onto. Ironically, we were in the minority as cyclists there, walking through a thronging throbbing parking lot jammed full of Vans and SUVs, crossing the swift river of the mini Lorax-induced Traffic Jam with our bikes and flashing lights.
But the poetry was not in the Suessian Rhymes, but in the fantastic moonlit blanket of humid warmth that enveloped us the entire show, caressing us as we sliced through it on the dark streets, silently curling around our faces, shoulders, bare legs. The air was touchable, almost visible. The air enjoyed and cheered us on, whispering encouragements to the Way-Past-Bedtimers. Where's Haiku Dave when you need him?
Velvet Air, Full Moon
You watched us flow like Night Birds
Through the darkened ways
Joseph Haydn said, quoting the Bible, "The heavens are telling the glory of God" (Psalms 19:1). Tonight the air was speaking to me loud and clear.
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they display knowledge.
There is no speech or language
where their voice is not heard.a
Their voiceb goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world. (v 1-4)
Wow.