Angel #3 Poem by John Allen Richter
Angel #3
As I stood there, wondering “Who am I”
and what should I tell you about myself
an angel touched my shoulder and said
“Excuse me sir,
but you’re in my seat”
How odd that was, I thought
because I was standing at the moment
and these angels calling themselves Kim
don’t have halos, by the way
but they do glow, you know
So, what to tell? What to tell?
OK……. I know
so I gave that angel the nearest seat anyway
and a margarita too
she liked that a lot
But then she said
“Excuse me sir,
but you’re stepping on my toes”
so I looked down and
she didn’t have any
Angels are weird
but they are, like, the best part of my life
I love them
Hi Daniel.... Angels are a part of this world, I think, as well as we. The world is so odd. We are born into it - quite alone and naked, with absolutely no knowledge of where we came from or what we are supposed to do here. We are given (hopefully) a loving mother - and God willing father too, to help us with living in the physical world. Or if not loving parents then - in some way I suppose - each child given what God must feel necessary. I just don't know or understand, even after these 56 years I've had to think about it. And if I have no more information about myself than what I had the day I was born an infant, then I am scarcely qualified to ponder the origins of angels. I only know that they are entirely comprised of love - not flesh - not brains - not knowledge - of the earth - or of life or just one's self - as the poem started - but just love. Pure and unadulterated. Sometimes love can be so pure that it can only lie in deepest contrast to everything else that we know - or have learned during our physical lives...... If that makes sense? That's what I was going for.... That and the fact that this non-descript, fictional angel is the third one in my life....
Yes, it makes sense, because you have thought it through and made it coherent. And that means you can build on it, especially as your experience amplifies what your words describes. A fourth angelic visitation, for example. Angels make sudden, often unexpected appearances in my poems, which I cannot explain. Their presence just seems to make perfect sense. I wrote one short one, THE VISITATION OF ANGELS, which could be summed up by your sentence, ANGELS ARE ENTIRELY COMPRISED OF LOVE... Philosophers use the term ONTOLOGY to identify Being. I don't know if angels are ontological beings, or mental figures, that is, archetypal rather than ontological, but as far as our life on earth is concerned, whether they are beings or figures, they participate intimately with us, and continually guide us on, or back to the path of love. And we so need that guidance, don't we?
You called this poem whimsical which it certainly is - at the expense of our human pride. The angels here keep a low profile with regard to their power: they simply do not display any acts that might reveal their superiority to us humans. So I conclude you want us to see the angels as more integrated into our daily world than is commonly the case. The word angel means messenger in Greek. There is no apparent message in this poem, but it seems safe to say your angels want us to know they're, are aware of our behavior, and are settling in for the long term. Is that a fair assessment?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:12:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice humanising of angel encountet