Living Zen Life

There are no cultures or times
when summer's solstice had no meaning
no celebrations or picnics into the dark.
Poets and astronomers alike
positioned themselves on rocks open to the skies
to view the moment of mystical change
when our plenetary movement in the heavens
for the briefest of instants, like a child,
paused and wondered,
shall I go forward or shall I go back?

I presume, only hours now before the event,
that we will go back, the sun as far past 
the big pine branches as it will go this year,
still...
I like to imagine that our globe in it's spin
wishes, this year I swear it, I will not go back!

No, I suppose not.
Despite consequences for species
of our lovely lost little planet
it is strangely hopeful for me to imagine
that our green and blue globe
had a fanciful mind to travel the stars
as we might wish for ourselves
in our wildest wandering dreams.