And Above Me, Laughter

    using words from Jorie Graham

I let go of empty agreements,
       let go of their poisoned
           granaries, and fathom
   instead the incomprehensible—

       angels that hover
   like paper kites.

There, upclose, long-fingered
the clouds. There, only
           painless mistakes
and nothing of metal or carbon,  
       no cuts of forest
       or spidery wounds.

What blooms there takes
   possession of this scrap
               of time, this one,
right now, this blue home of kindness
   where I need no flagpoles
       or memorials

where the wavebreak
   utters no self-destroying
           blows, blows
   nothing but water-swell
nothing but
   the hiss of invisible and
       living stars.