The Poet-Angels Who Came to Dinner
‘It was a night without memory. It was a night replaying its corrosive recurrence on the road of our lives, on the road which was hungry for great transformations.’
– – Ben Okri, The Famished Road
1.
Neither had been invited but both were welcomed.
They spoke through wordless intuition, cool nods of
‘Peace-Be-Still,’ and, ‘As-Goes-Love-So-Goes-Life.’
Their quiet burned my brain with inklings of wonders
to come – – as I set my table with what I had:
half of a cheese sandwich left over from a lucky day.
2.
From the eyes of one, my meager offering drew
liquid letters and symbols that splashed into goblets
until they overflowed with flavors of wine.
The second stranger laughed. As he howled, their sorrow
and their joy set my table anew – laid it heavy
with glazed yams, marinated dreams, and aromatic breads.
3.
Then their wings spread and revealed feathers painted
with the names and words of poets known and unknown.
Echoes of vows and prayers exploded blinding songs of light.
By the time I could see again, my guests had gone.
I stared at the bountiful table they left, too stuffed
with awe, to feast on the generosity of their grace.
4.
A knock at the door made me think they’d returned.
It was instead an old grandfather, homeless, with three
children whose parents had been lost to war and disregard.
They had not been invited but all were welcomed.
I nodded through tears of wordless intuition:
‘Peace-Be-Still,’ and, ‘As-Goes-Love-So-Goes-Life.’
