To find the auras of angels move your
misdirected field of vision from the sky
towards the opposite direction
to see cheerful children in personas of perfection,
not contemplating but knowing goodness,
with eyes full of wonder and love,
squeaking with joy, smiling with ready teeth for all,
without exception, pretense, or prejudice.
They lack mythical angel wings,
the true saviors of the world,
radiating lovely light
through exaggerated gestures.
But agony takes root and grows
in this silently screaming earth
as adversaries arise hurting children
with guns, deception, bombs.
Children’s deaths mean Armageddon,
humanity pushed to primal screams
which echo, echo over the entirety of the globe.
These sounds will deafen all inhabitants
of this impotent place, incapable of protecting
the most precious bearers of the future.
This is when the resonating light
of salvation truly dims.
As the water dries from disillusioned eyes,
something else emerges,
the other self I’d submerged.
She takes her chance to seep all the way in,
flourishing, allowing me release.
What good did being good get me but grief,
that woman has long enough grieved.
Where being good drowned me,
she helps me breath,
standing to give me peace,
protecting me from hereon in,
a sheltering self,
tough enough to face the world’s ignominy.
Maybe, one day, I’ll allow you reprieve,
but not now dear, I’ll hold you close,
watching you as you rest after trying your best.
How I love to see you sleep
while I grow strong, the bad seed.
You can trust the misfits more
than people who are cool,
the ones who always fit in,
able to change skins
like chameleons on catwalks.
Saturday’s ritual is discourse at diners,
when we talk while walking
to our regular hangout, The Green Kitchen.
As we wipe our feet on the mat on the floor,
we exit a pressure cooker, of sorts,
as worries are left at the door.
The mornings here mean so much more
than French Toast, eggs, home fries.
Forgetting brimming calendars,
we find a space of solace
where it’s just you and me,
fresh silverware, an easy cup of coffee.
Now protected within parameters
of peace, the havoc halts.
Relaxed, we breathe, and talk, and laugh.
She said, stop looking back,
the past ain’t got much,
just the ugliness of betrayal.”
I said, “I know, there’s much we don’t
see coming, so much despair,
but this winding trail has led me back there,
to that invisible tether running forward and back,
connecting me to everyone,to everything
that has been and will be,
while some force keeps moving me,
just like I was once propelled towards life
with all its challenges, its strife,
pushed from some unknown place,
just like I am now propelled
towards eventual death,
but the whole point always was and is
that everything, everyone, the you and me,
in that is the truth,
when we get to the end, we will forget
what was unimportant, the aggression,
the greed, and yes, the betrayal.
trust me, then…
we will only see the helpers,
the ones who really cared,
angels sent to be in our midst,
they are all that ever mattered
the only ones that were ever real.
Whenever you are dismayed,
your heart steering you towards
hating people who betrayed,
try to grasp at any shred,
any thread that you can use
to find your way back
to the fount of forgiveness
to the freedom that is love.
Please check out my latest publication, The Search for Calm Among the Chaos, at Rathalla Review.