forever waiting in the metaphysical cafe

Forever waiting in the metaphysical café
I have planned a blind date with fate.
Slurping my perennial latte,
Repeating the sounding joy:
He’s late.
A boy,
Without an age ,
walks through the archway.
With pen in hand, I reach out to
Engage.
A crossword puzzle,
In the paper:
eternally Sunday.
Equally puzzled,
his eyes perpetually say
I am not the one you have been looking for today.
Without words of consolation they parochially walk away.
Forever patient in the metaphysical café,
I sit cross legged in meditation and wait.
There is no need to fold my hands and pray;
I wait for my proverbial sweetheart or some work of art
And for this never-ending story to pass away.


(first draft)