Marking the Spot

December 27,2018

         Marking the Spot

Someone whitewashed a four-foot circle

with a big X through it

on the interior side of our faded redwood fence

in our enclosed backyard

I saw it through the sliding glass door

with my morning coffee in hand

Who would or could do such a thing

We have occasionally disgruntled neighbors

none with a bent toward vandalism

nor even mischievous children

I went out for closer look

to examine this symbol of rejection or worse

some sort of un-neighborly curse

Standing before it it disappeared

as if suddenly sunken into the dry wood

I ran my astonished hand over the rough planks

leaned closer as if to see where it vanished

then stepped back seeking perspective

as with a magician’s trick and then aside

whence the circled X reappeared

Repeated movements repeated the phenomenon

until I realized it as a prank of the sun

a projected reflection of cross panes of glass

in an upstairs window of the house

twisted and arced into the insignia shown

Delighted and amazed I now felt chosen

a celestial recognition of metaphoric meaning

selected by a brightness timed by the season

I’ve now seen it many times

sought it and comforted by its consistency

wondered and amused by its portent

honored by its section an attribution

of indecipherable reason bestowed

Also a wondrous bewilderment

that I hadn’t noticed it long ago

The window had been installed decades before

reaffirming my belief in selective perception

There are things we do not see

until we need to see them