Looking into the sky on such a night,
I think that if God were a woman,
she would wear this pearl necklace,
and parade about to show the non-believers,
that yes, she does exist. But there
is no movement except for the slim white streak
as a jet passes overhead.
Behind me the muffled sound from a loon
calls out from the black marsh that is hidden
until the morning sun paints it again.
I believe angels exist in the eyes
of women who hold faith in the men
they see in stars, or in a planet's silent rotation.
Dare I dream then, that in a place
too far to imagine or touch, unless
a thousand wings suddenly lifted this body
above all the people watching indifferently
as the fire consumes the rose,
that somewhere, a single face
desires to ride bareback with me
on the white, winged horse that never tires
night after night as it gallops across the universe?

About the poet: Works by Michael P. McManus have appeared in Epiphany, ONTHEBUS, Midwest Quarterly, Euphony, Wind Magazine, Louisiana Literature, Square Lake, Raintown Review, Poet Lore, Prism International, Atlanta Review, Louisiana Review, Rattle, Texas Review, West Wind Review, Adirondack Review, and others. His awards include a fellowship from the Louisiana Division of the Arts, The Virginia Award from The Lyric, and The Ocean's Prize from Sulphur Literary Review. He has poems forthcoming in Soundings East and River Oak Review.