A Last Supper Passage

Idle the waves
Temperate the speed
Port and starboard of one’s life
Balanced
Righted
Afloat with winged calm

How beautiful the setting
Etched history of crystal refracting sun's horizon
While overhead beams of Edison
Highlight floral accents so small
Yet to some
So prescient in scope

They love me they love me not
Serenades us in silence
While Epicurean's silverware
Display will-o'-the-wisp reflections
Atop white clouds of linen comfort
Knowing their calling soon will begin

Alone perhaps
As all become
But such a celebratory buffet

Having chosen lightly from life's infatuation
The naked salads sprouted from grist
Adorned by dressings of mixed color
Remind the palate where the banquet early began
Once simply samplings of raw growth
Now homogenized into death's sweet and sour disguise

Inhaling deeply
We beckon moist breezes
Curve comforting auras about our mind
Sooth unhealed scars within the heart

Oh the remembering
The remembering

We pause

Breathing blood-red wine
Awaits our taste of resolve
Even as the waft of espresso
Alerts our senses to tomorrows
Not yet lived

As steward in white arrives
Insistence prevails
Longing resists

We ask
Might this be only one such night
One such pause to consider yet another day
Another breath

Silence delivers the answer

Dining on the ship of dreams
Where imagination
The taste of one’s next actuality
Awaits Neverland's satiated moment