YE Holy Angels Bright
I suppose that the truth,
the bottom line, as they say,
is that I do not trust
paste angels,
pale emanations of
“the (amorphous) divine,”
sweet ideas with
golden edging:
the universe,
somehow, wishing me well.
They are too …floaty for me.
these free agents
that waft in at no cost
and, with gossamer thoughts,
bind me ever more tightly
to my self.
No. Give me bold colors for angels;
the red of new blood and fire,
green of spring leaves or spruce,
the changing colors of the sea.
And gold. And yes, gold,
but flashing, blinding gold
of the living God
come not to whisper
sweet nothing in mortal ears,
but to command,
to impregnate, empower.
These come from God’s bright throne
bearing burning coals.
These come with terrifying might“Fear not!” the say.,
-such irony -
and set me free,
Louise Buck @
19 July 1998
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