Angels Leaving
Sometimes we see it is not
simply light and wind
ruffling the glossy leaves but
angels nested in every bush
like tiny birds of light,
constantly turning to caress
the beautiful hair and wings
of the angel nearest them.
When your heart begins
to gong in your chest,
when your feet stutter in the dirt
like the hands of a blind man
touching a new wall,.
that tentative, that unsure,
then you will see them.
They will see you, too,
and fly to you, lifting
from their leaves so lightly
not the smallest twig shudders.
They will circle your head
in loops and intricate spirals
that form, you begin to realize,
if you hold perfectly still, unblinking,
petals, a luminous rose—
you blooming.
Mike Clifton
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