Se nasce un angelo

An angel
born of water
depth
struggle
loss
presses its small toes into the mud
near the headwaters of life
green
moist
shimmering

above
brooding
clouds
are at work

wilderness
envelops the sun's light

above in their raw
enormity
Rilke's terrible angels
hold vigil
as they usher us forward
the ocean becomes
an uneasy sky
marked with pathways 
to the next place
and another and another

everything conspires
each element churns
to build new wings
able to bear the weight
of living

each leaf of grass
each feathered being
each mourned absence
builds the next
breath
yours mine

and droplets of dew
on the as yet unpicked grapes
gleam

—Lorena