Love calls us to the things of this world

The blowing drapes reminded me of the Richard Wilbur poem -

 

'Outside the open window

The morning air is all awash with angels.

 

Some are in bed-sheets, some are in blouses,

Some are in smocks: but truly there they are.

Now they are rising together in calm swells

Of halcyon feeling, filling whatever they wear

With the deep joy of their impersonal breathing;

 

Now they are flying in place, conveying

The terrible speed of their omnipresence, moving

And staying like white water; and now of a sudden

They swoon down into so rapt a quiet

That nobody seems to be there.

The soul shrinks'

 

These are blue linen curtains, not laundry - but it's in the same spirit.

Done