Jubilate

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CANTATA

The angel choir at Yosemite

is different from what you might think.

Oh yes--it's there all right

scattered about

a small band at the bridge over Happy Isles

a chorale-sized group near Tioga Pass

a handful of soloists circling El Capitan.

Because of the hidden garden quality of this place

and because the Yosemite were such a

welcoming tribe, the angels assumed

certain of those pagan ways

(good angels can be tolerant, after all,

without contamination; fallen angels, weak,

have left Yosemite as there was too much

backbone to its beauty).

Their wings are not the mighty

unadorned style we've come to know.

These come greatly feathered and decorated

with carved bells,

mica glittery beads, slender dried vine ribbons,

bright cranberry-dyed woven ringlets,

and miniature pine garlands.

Their glory is so rare and charming, as

astonishing as a secret robin's egg

on the valley floor.

Tonight, I strain to hear

the scented wind of Yosemite,

the jubilant, innocent vibrato

of wing-blown angel's hum

shaping the sacred notes,

rehearsing the refrain,

"Venite. Adore."

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...may beauty and peace follow you this day...