I sit across from two tired angels
bent like humans over stale coffee
because all the wine has been withdrawn.
Like them I carry the shame of
a failed mission: the people
long ago I was to ignite with love
failed to notice even a tiny spark of
divine fire. They spent their lives
in useless frenzies, left me bereft.
How can we celebrate
when such large chunks of sadness
block both view and passage?
How can we throw back our eyes
and peer across the heavenly spheres
to glimpse the burning rays
of Heaven, where the Throne of God
casts its luminous shadow
over legions of adoring angels?
These mournful angels are blind
to traces of the glittering road
leading them back to Heaven.
Descent seems more likely
than ascent. They feel sharp pains
knowing mortal creatures suffer.
'O Faith, such a thin thread
to wind around mortal lives!
Can we not cable their souls
with a stronger sinew, something
lasting like friendship, something primal
like family, something fierce like love? '
So they pray like desperate humans.
Soon in Heaven they will know
perfect bliss, their moments
of pain dissolved and forgotten.
They will ascend from earth
through circles of water, air,
ether; through the nine
Heavens, each Heaven
purging more of the mortal
sorrow clinging to their
angelic beings, until
in ecstasy they reach
the Sphere of the Divine Pedestal,
and soul, heart, mind
fuse in perfect awareness
of God's endless wonder.
They will stop at the Sphere
of the Divine Throne,
joining all angels and saints
in the pure bliss of worship,
all earthly passions released.
I love the idea of them traveling up through nine heavens and becoming less mortal with each one.Beautifully written and a joy to read
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
joining all angels and saints in the pure bliss of worship, all earthly passions released. Wish to dive into the holy river. Thanks for sharing. Regards.