The White Light Cometh

Our world awaits the coming white light.

This morning the sparrows move reverently from branch to branch

Or is it just caution they’re exercising?

Some swoop down to peck at the early morning crumbs set out by the baker.

As the sun continues to rise,

two men unload a king-sized bed for the newlyweds,

stopping only to admire the bike chained to the sidewalk tree.

Through an open window of the brownstone,

the bike’s caregiver-owner prepares early breakfast

for an ailing grandmother,

heating the oatmeal and setting up her TV tray.

New York’s summer humidity lathers the leaves of the sidewalk-Elms

as someone’s radio alarm blasts forth with the chorus of

Beethoven’s Ode to Joy.

Suddenly an entire neighborhood is aroused,

causing some windows to close

others to open wider.

Music as prelude to what’s coming?

From a high-end coiffure salon catering to the well off,

a young female executive leaps from her chair

runs into the street staring up at the sky, “Oh, my God!”

as her coif confronts the moist air with resentment

and her male stylist shakes his head,

“White coats are gonna come for her someday?”

“I’ve got to go… got to go, ma’am,” shouts the caregiver

as he runs out of the building,

leaps on his bike,

weaves restlessly through the streets,

drops the bike at the steps of St Patrick’s Cathedral,

and dashes inside,

his white shirttails fluttering behind him another instant

after the rest of the city comes to a blinding stop.

The white light cometh...

searing the sky with fission’s agonizing heat.