A Bump

Two paths
met at crossroads.
“From just there in the village, I come,”
said one.
“And I from a land unknown,” the other.
So they walked side by side,
birdwatching, partners
in solidarity.
One crossed the other,
shoulders bumped, jostled.
Puddles from dark long-past storms
rippled into waves; paths parted,
veered wide for moments
for things done, and those yet left
undone.

But stormy shadows fade
as morning dawns and
vanquishes the fog.
Then paths may join again
to do the undone
or accomplish the unthinkable
as ripples give way to peace
and bubbles.