To Wim Wenders On His Angelic Images

let the guardians fall from the skies

as tender as snow feathers the angels

looking after humankind

and find in the whisper of a prayer

in the blueberry picking dreams of the children

the key to beginning again

let the winds sway Edenward

in a pale green listening

and the child lost in snow

recover the light

relieved of snow blindness

and half dream of those who study as if it were a vow

confined to libraries and to a distant quest

take another breath

those about to jump from bridges

take a step back

or fall into the arms of the angels reduced to

human perplexity and fresh coffee

counting the rays of the sun in base two

in primary colours in secret distress, delight

radioing in the beauty and fragility

the tragedy the infinite redemption

of those still on earth.

mary angela douglas 9 february 2021