ANGELS OF COMFORT

The angels of comfort,
they captured me on Sunday morn.
And after wrapping me
in gold threaded blue silk
and anointing my forehead
with fine fragrant oils
I decided, perhaps
these messengers from heaven knew best
and that my mortal flesh
needed nurturing
after all.
I succumbed.

My heart-yoked breath
grew faint but deeper
as I lay in the arms of my beloveds.
Not resting, but spinning dreams,
tales of familiar spirits
from diverse worlds with different tongues
but speaking the same true words.

Would that this too shall never pass,
I bow my head to softly pray
for simple gifts of time and peace
brought to us this Sabbath day.