Meaness

We celebrate the Dawn with the abandon of vigor
and birth explodes on the scene in a mirad of color
blinding humanity with enigmatic suspense
in the future
in the springtime
in the ignorance of youth.

We reverently, grudgingly pay homage to the Night
sleepless we come in the blackness of Dracula's cloak
wrapping it's terrible comfort about us
looking for the past
yearning for the past
eulogizing the past.

But the Noon-time, the Noon-time, no one embraces the Noon-time
heat and brightness and transition like bubbles floating
popping in an instant our dreams gone forever before we know
the middle
the average
the mean.

It's Mid-life now that I love, that golden wrapped present
God graciously gives at just the right hour
the Glorious gift of Meantime akin to the second half of our favorite sandwich
anticipating the satisfaction that follows
Past
Future
Now.