Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Angel

Those below 
do not realise that when they breath
when they utter even the softest of whispers
that I rise upon the thermals of their words,
that I climb ever upwards on their sentences,
let fall my pledges to the earth
and dance when they sigh.

Sometimes one who is more attentive
becomes aware of my passing;
a soft flow of air, the merest zephyr betrays me.
Sometimes as I rise I pass one at prayer, 
or in quiet meditation.
Briefly our paths cross:
fellow travellers in the same airy spaces.

But mostly those below remain unaware
when I plummet in a cascade of light.
Becoming, in the last shard of time, 
fluid as water 
and our beings merge.

Painting by William Baxter Closson


  1. Simply beautiful! The words and the painting. Thank you.

  2. Great poem Emma. I really enjoyed reading it, Keep up the good work - Shane

  3. Thank you for your kind words, Shane!

  4. Absolutely breathtaking..deeply beautiful words...and such a gorgeous image! Your posts always have a profound effect upon my spirit..they make my heart dance and soul fly..and leave me feeling peaceful!
    Blissful poetry!

  5. Thank you so much Victoria. I feel blessed with a kindred spirit like yourself, whose spirit responds, whose heart dances, and whose soul flies on my words.