Don't Be Afraid (Of What?)

​Don’t be afraid (of what?)
Of living in a rarified
(And sunny?) sunny clime,
When you feel that the tide

Of your blood is torrid and
Sluggish and not worth even a damn,
That a charcoal, greasy shadow
Is hiding God’s flawless epigram.

Because there are no end of
Miracles. (Miracles?) Clean
Like the sky. On the pathways
Of the birds, clear and keen,

Everything appears as good
(Uh, maybe not in my neighborhood),
The soil takes off its sidewalks
The hill takes off its hood

Beyond thought, which comes 
To its chain fence
And sees but doesn’t get
The bright, the immense--

Basically to wrap it all up--
To wrap it all up in one living tie
And the wellspring runs,
And it doesn’t run dry,

Open up the venetian blinds
So that the air will pour in,
So that the light will swim across the room
And angels will bring their next of kin.