All night, all day, angels watching over me my lord.
—Traditional lullaby
If they were there today
at the waterfall, the angels
perhaps thought to themselves,
Ah, we can rest. Look. She’s
finally learning to sit.
They maybe were hiding
in the clear, frigid fringe,
or in the heart-shaped cress
that clung to the cliff. I did not
see them. I never do. Nor
did I hear them, but if they
were there I imagine
that while I sat
and obeyed the stillness
that was opening in me,
the angels were cheering
and patting each other
on their winged backs before
finding a nice mossy ledge
to take a long awaited nap.