Anjeniwag, the Angels

Upon hearing Mendelssohn’s Elijah, Op. 70

O thou, who makes thine angels spirits

performed by the Duluth Superior Symphony Orchestra

This November evening

with sky purple starless

and dark yet a month away

from the longest of this year

anticipated holiness of music

lights the spirits of some

whose souls warmer than the sidewalk

melt ice crystals to footprints,

wet tracks on concrete;

the rest, pilgrims hurry inside

round-shouldered against the chill,

unwrapped cough drops in pockets

against folded bills for wine and a tip

at intermission.

Seated musicians in black wonder

what angels might bring Elijah tonight

to lovers of music, light, warmth,

Jehovah, intermission wine

served in stemless plastic

or all of these?

The conductor bows, turns

to face chorus and orchestra

the stiffness of his straight back

flexing to an arabesque,

his wingspan of raised arms;

with the swell of the oratorio,

the expectant the hopeful

the jaded the surprised

are tethered, the source

of the Aylmeri jess

invisible and tangible as

with an intake of breath

of breath, all

singers musicians

expectant hopeful jaded

transform with the opus

returning briefly to what we once were

and will be again,

anjeniwag, angels,

spirits in soul and form.

This is human-produced sound, tangible

touch of bow to string, of mouth to reed

or nickel mouthpiece, of breath to vocal chord

that calls forth Elijah;

our quickened souls

that make the music, conduct, and hear,

fly as angels over the sound

fly as anjeniwag above the sound.