Fluffernutter Sandwiches

Ride on the cloud that drifts just below the moon
Bask in residual sun that has lingered around for us.
We might get close enough to Him to see His smile
A child might say carved out of a wheel of cheese
But I say is carved out of my heart that keeps on
Rising up like a spring flower persisting through storm
To drink up the first rays that fall from the rainbow
Down to soil cultivated from the detritus of autumn.

Doesn’t that cloud look like magic fluffernutter pulled
From the jar just before the peanut butter is spread
On the other slice awaiting, a little jealous of sweetness
That sticks to its partner so strong it won’t flatten out?
Imagine the moon is hungry for a bite of this life we share
Drifting below, a little aimless tonight, but just as alive
As when the direction to travel felt so damn clear it hurt?
We could make ourselves a sandwich and let Him taste us.

Ride on the cloud together and we’ll touch that moon
Scrape the golden ganache of His face and taste sugar
Sweetened by the lingering sun. We’ll get close enough
On our marshmallow ride to carve a smile in our hearts
That will feel like the light that sticks to lunar surfaces
On a cool night that relieves summer of its relentlessness.
We can eat peanut butter by the spoonful and tell stories
So stuck to the roof of our mouths all we’ll do is laugh.

Doesn’t that cloud look just like a dream we whipped up
Out of the winter snow that fell in our distant memories
Left behind in empty jars spent of their sticky sweetness?
I am going to take two pieces of bread and lay them out
For all the life I have left to spread and get out my knife
To cut off the crusts that really just make an unnecessary
Boundary between the air we breathe and what we taste
Riding on this cloud adrift under the golden moon’s smile.

Up, Up, Up Into His Sky

I wake, having forgotten to look up
To see how god shapes his story for us
If only we had the cypher to the clouds.

I ask the trees, having watched Him longer,
If they have a code, they say, “no man,
Made up our own, more fun that way.”

I smile and move along to speak with birds
They all laugh together, “silly man, always
Thinking God does everything for you.”

I smile and look past them at the blue
Wanting to unlock the dictionary, and name
Every corner of the sky in between clouds.

Just then the birds’ silence stills me
To these pieces of universe we surmise
Are ours to discover and name.

Names that will be forgotten
Once their meaning dies and with us,
Drift up, up, up into His sky.

Image: Sky 2, Creator’s Celebration by Roxanne Dyer
https://roxannedyer.com/sky-oil-painting-art-gallery/