people will touch and talk
perhaps easily, and loving
will be as natural
as breathing and as warm
as sunlight,
and people will untie themselves
as a string is unknotted
unfold and yawn and stretch
and spread their fingers,
unfurl, uncurl
like seaweed returned to the sea;
and work will be simple and swift
as a seagull flying,
and play will be casual and quiet
as a seagull settling
and the
clocks will stop,
and no one will wonder or care
or notice
and people will smile
without
reason,
even in the winter,
even in the rain