I went into the celestial room today.
Angels in front of me.
A big angel with four wings
with a long draped dress.
Many small ones with two wings
dotting the dark sky.
The doctor tapped my face
“Does it hurt anywhere?”
No.
An angel to my left.
The dreaming angel
So restful.
“Breath out.”
She said with
the stethascope on my back.
“Your breathing is fine.”
A trail of stars.
Celestial poetry.
Reminders of the big picture.
I enter the birdhouse room.
Nests of straw.
Eggs with spots.
Tiny houses with round doors
and little eyes.
Blood was drawn.
Beauty through the window.
Sky.
Wings that fly.
Waiting, waiting.
Waiting, waiting.
Waiting, waiting.
Your blood counts fine.
Into the outside wind
my jacket waves.
Somewhere
taking flight.
