They always say not to
be afraid when they arrive
burning hot like the
sun. Above and around,
knowing what God looks
like they generally have
less to say than I’d think –
not like stars though, not
far away, but slipping 
between realities as 
though they were sheets
of paper. I’ve heard 
they sometimes fight
their way through when
darkness guards the
page. Do not be afraid,
as though we could 
manage it, however 
good the news. But
I’m glad they try 
anyway. Like comforting
a baby when there’s 
a loud noise or a 
change in cabin 
pressure. Elevated,
unreasonably loved,
ransomed, so to speak. 
Do not be afraid. Okay. 
I’ll try to believe
they mean it.