The Great Cloud of Witness

The Lyrid meteor shower peaks tomorrow  

I think of how you will not be able to go

........to the roof at Paisley Park and stand alone

in the cool Minnesota dark

how you will not feel the wind in your hair

........how the stars will be unable to copy your eyes

and their light if it had reached you

would already be dead

........it doesn't matter what I believe

about the soul

for all your emancipation

........your heart stopped beating

somewhere between floors

........maybe you already know

........how much that hurts

maybe I just can't see your black silk shirt

waving against the stars

........how your electric boots that lit

the halls in blue
are now a part 
of the constellation 


........Jehovah commands you to a sleep

as glistening as a bowl of summer plums 

so profound you’ll have no need of a map

........I called my friend to tell him I was worried

you won't know who you are

how you slumped like Dorothy

........in a field of poppies

he said you'd be bored

in five minutes

........and we laughed

not long after you slipped away

from a form that tricked you 


........with its immortality

you'd be looking to hold

another guitar in your arms

........or a beautiful woman

you could never make up your mind

which would play

........the greatest song

Lois P. Jones
~