The Angels Will Talk Among Themselves

the angels will talk among themselves;
the angels are not exclusionary.
it's only that, here on earth

who can speak their language?
some poets almost hear,
born with a crystal ear

the snowfalls of their speaking;
and find without even seeing,
intuitive to a fault, in a room

with no candles
the rose gold of the sun behind

the shuttered venetian blind
and a winter apartment's cloud.
am I too loud I asked

the roses underground;
sleeping,am I blind?
I asked the wind

that I may not find you but
only the motion of the grass,
the treetops as you pass

through all this evergreen seeming.
the wind swept on
and so does Song

and high above
Time! Time! the silvered angels sing
in the coinage of rains and what remains:

the shadows of Poetry
falling over me

mary angela douglas 5 december 2015