A Millennial Date

I'm so glad we know of

this magical forest--

don't the clear waters here

make us look younger?

End of the what?

Oh, that.

Here, let me pour you a Coke

from our picnic cooler.

Diet or regular?

With or without ice?

Of course, a toast--

here's to this endless earth

we've made and are made of.

May our one-triple-nined

planet contrive to survive

this year of broadcast hysteria,

and may the Christian

clickover of 2000 somehow

transform trumpeting holiness

into selfless silence.

Magic tricks?

No, I have none.

There's so much magic

here in this forest,

here on this earth,

here in our hearts,

that any more

would be less.

Safe this year, are we?

As safe as we feel, I'd say--

and as safe as we love,

as safe as we give,

as safe as everything

we don't understand.

We are flies on a ceiling

which is also the floor

of a marvelous room above.

Count that room's years base 10

and it's a third millennium.

Count them base God

and oneness is far enough.

Another Coke?

Yes, thank you.

A toast to all the magic

that keeps us safe

and all the daring

that keeps us magic.

The Other Door

Together

When Youre in a Frump