Paper Wings

Paper Wings

Seth: The little girl asked if she could be an angel.
Cassiel: They all want wings.
Seth: I never know what to say.
Cassiel: Tell them the truth. Angels aren't human. We were never human.
Seth: What if I just make her a little pair of wings out of paper?
--City of Angels

Indeed, Icarus flew too close to the sun,
Wax dripped down his side, slowly sweating away his life.

Crumpled on the floor,
A white broken ball of flesh, uncertain of her fate
When life plucks her from His hand and
Crushes unmercifully, testing faith
Eyes closed to what is or isn’t or might still be.

Black gowned angels watching
Tribunal of faith
Credulous, willing to step into the waters
Willing to accept towering waves bowing
To his framing palms holding them aside
While she steps across the mud
Paper wings flattened to her sides.

The wind brings voices to freshen her ears
Heavenly choirs singing, “Gloria in Excelsis Deo.”

On high the angels wait, trembling, while
She walks through the sticky mud towards
The desert dryness, burning with mirages
Of the promised land.









EAW
October 25, 2006
Evening