The Great Interruption
It was an early Wednesday
evening
At a dining area in The
Club
On top of Red Mountain
Seeing over the Magic
City.
A dozen or so couples
gathered
To celebrate the
consecration
Of two new overseers
On the next day.
This was the evening
before,
An evening of great anticipation.
The view from the
dining area
Was from on high and widely
expansive.
We could see parachutists in the northern sky
Gracefully floating into
the downtown
Baseball stadium
For the season’s first
game.
It was mid-April
And a kind of wintry-like
spring.
Not warm, not cold.
At first, blue sky and breezy.
So, we went inside
After gazing the distant
horizon from above
To have our celebratory
dinner,
With doors to the outside
yet open.
As the sun set
The western blue sky now a translucent
orange,
A lovely hue, orange and yellow,
And streaks of red.
“Oh, my” was heard
From one woman at our
table.
She asked her overseer-elect spouse
For his camera.
She walked outside again,
Left behind the dinner,
Marveling at the setting
sun
And the multi-colored
horizon.
Others at the dinner
Noticed, and walked
outside
Joining their dinner mates
Devouring that awesome vista.
Dinner interrupted?
Five, ten, fifteen minutes
passed.
It seemed like a long-lasting
set.
Sinking, the reddish-orange
disc
Disappeared.
Now dark, others in the dining area
Beckoned those outside
To return.
We have a celebration to
complete.
The Great Interruption,
That colorful miracle of sky and setting sun,
Accentuated and confirmed
The celebration in the
room.
It was
No Interruption
After all.
