Consummation

At 730 in the evening
(in locations other than the US mid west it could be 630 or 530)
the sky enters my room
with the sun through the leaves
and spreads on a wall
the leaves there sway gently
caressing the unhealed scars of memory
the breeze like a balm
descends on my bruised brow
days dark and bright, lived and yet to come
bound by my sun dreams and drenched in my rain griefs
find their way into that moment
that which i have lost, and that which i never found
those that seek me and those that i seek fill that one moment
as i traverse an entire lifetime and many deaths
at one with the light the breeze and the green.