Signs, Signals, and Omens

 

Signals, signs, omens and the

moments.

I seem to miss them.

Although, I’m not always looking for them,

like some ancient oracle.

 

In hindsight though, I see them all

too clearly. The moments when

I should have noticed the way the

wind was blowing, or that the light

had changed from green to red.

 

I’d miss smoke signals on the

open prairie only to realize later,

as the Natives shot their arrows into

my body, that I knew something

was terribly amiss on the plains.

 

It’s terribly hard to recognize

what the Tea leaves meant,

after you’ve already rinsed your cup

out and hung it to dry on the rack;

was that a skull?

 

I’m not always the swiftest

in the interpreting of the will

of the stars, or if there is any will

with them at all, or if it was even

a symbol for me.

 

Like, what if I intercepted someone

else’s message and completely correlated

it to the wrong experience, ruining not only

my destiny but the destiny of some total stranger

who might have been waiting for some true sign?  

 

I don’t even sometimes grasp the moment

when all she wants me to do is kiss her because all

I’m thinking about is how much I wish she’d

kiss me, so the message is missed and the moment

goes by and no one gets kissed.

 

I need my signals to arrive with a Thud.

The signs to make my eyes tear and

the omens arrive like a movie premier,

which I’d probably miss anyway,

still thinking about that kiss.

Picture Credit: https://www.carriegollergallery.com/shop/carrie-goller-smoke-signals-encaustic/mixed-media-48x48