An Angel has Flown
An angel has flown,
the dust is settled,
the people are free.
A footprint at sunrise
is all that is left
in the vast plain
where the angel flew.
I clutch the candle
too great for my hands
and light up his face.
Gentle yet frightened,
like a deer in the night,
cranes his head
and says, "I must leave".
The glow reflects
yellow locks in shadowy eyes,
the pink gown and soft slippers of a child.
Folded wings unruffle
and grow twice their size.
Sheer power stands ready
"Humble angel, you must fly."
Light passes hands
The candle is cupped
Shadowy eyes smile to the skies.
One last push
From the ground,
air swirls and lifts
into the dark peace of the night.
The sky is open
and the candle finds home
in the lap of a passing cloud.
The landing is neat,
the wings fold down,
half the heart still longs for the earth.
"Good night, sweet angel.
Come past by and by
to this plain of memories
where I stand at your footprint."
- Written moments after my father's passing, 5 November 2007
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Comments: 4
Thank you.