Evening Wine

 
It's just evening wine:
red, tart, warm.
Oak wood is crackling in the fireplace.
The coffee in the cup is almost cold. 
The conversation continues slowly. 
Life goes on. 
Tonight, for some reason,
it seems to be endless.
There, outside the window,
the hives are tightly packed and covered:
with blankets, plastic film, snow. 
Bees live in them, waiting for spring.
I want them to have enough honey
to survive until April.
I partake of the bread, white as the body of God,
that came down from the Chariot of Light.
I raise my glass to my eyes.
The indoors world turns red
and the snow in my garden turns blue.
I am talking to the Human Son in my prayers.
And now I'm finally grasping
the Tao is an extremely useful thing,
like everything he once told his pupils.
The world to come is being created in peace,
in warmth, in shelter.
I'll wake up in it tomorrow and take a pill "SAMADHI".

5.17. 08.03. 2021
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© Valentin Luchenko