Wednesday, December 7, 2016

So many angels


So many angels in our lives — the doctor, the mailman,
the cashier, the bell-ringer, the child, the parent, the friend, the adversary,
the barber, the field hand, the writer, the artist, the nurse,
all creatures wild and tame, rocks, waterfalls, deserts,
trees — there when we need them, sweet mist
when we don’t — and suddenly,
that moment we realize
we are angels
ourselves,

and that each time we meet,
in flesh, in pixel,
in print,

we are on a timeless mission,
in the right place, in the right moment,
and that there is no way and no need to resist,

O dear ones, our innocence.



2 comments:

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

The angels of our better nature.

William Michaelian said...

I’ve always loved those words, with no particular desire to know exactly what they mean. And of course they mean different things to different people, in different times and different places. “Better angels” goes back to Abraham Lincoln, by way of Dickens, by way of Shakespeare, as in some ways do we, I suppose.