Angels of Paradise
After Marc Chagall
Come with me.
Let me show
you the blue
field of light
that soothes aching
feet. Lie on
the brushing waves
of lavender growing
beneath your feet—
this is paradise.
Your tongue tastes
air scented with
pumpkin and rosemary.
Roses, rosebud budding,
bend and smell—
it lingers like
sweet coral honeysuckle
sap of earth—
the magic of daylight
will warm you
and cover you
in its golden
embrace like powdery
pollen—a marsh-
marigold folding into
your dew covered
skin like glaze.
Gaze into my
eyes, children, gaze
into the honey
colored creatures—it
is time to
find a place
of rest—soon
the dark will
come and shake
you into the
orchard of undress.
