I Might See An Angel At The Movies

I had plans to finally see Wild this afternoon.  Then it snowed over night and it's bone cold outside and I started getting lost in the stack of fabulous new books in my warm and cozy house.  I am reluctant to admit how easily I'm derailed, but there you have it.  Then I happed upon this Mary Oliver poem from Blue Horses:

Angels

 

You might see an angel anytime

and anywhere. Of course you have

to open your eyes to a kind of

second level, but it's not really

hard. The whole business of

what's reality and what isn't has

never been solved and probably

never will be. So I don't care to

be too definitive about anything.

I have a lot of edges called Perhaps

and almost nothing you can call

Certainty. For myself, but not

for other people. That's a place

you just can't get into, not

entirely anyway, other people's

heads.

 

I'll leave you with this.

I don't care how many angels can

dance on the head of a pin. It's

enough to know that for some people

they exist, and that they dance.

I'm easily sidetracked, but also quick to set straight.  I decided I'm going to see Wild after all.  I miss my Mom, I need a good cry and also to know I'm not alone in my grief and sorrow.