I would have waited alone a thousand
years for the coming of angels,
blinding bright as the spring sun to arrive,
to abandon this world for another.
Stunned by their flashing lights aflame
across the bow of their space craft—landing
lights for that world. Herds of animals:
horses, humans, and fish fixed.
The angels approached.
Come angels! Come beasts!
Men and women cried out
to each other; the angels cried;
some were lost between their earthly life
and paradise and what is paradise, anyway?
Few imagined being bound to this world;
blue halo of emerald mountains;
extraordinary, ordinary—they rose,
a crucifixion yardarm flying away.