An Angel

The other angel spoke to this angel...angel...why art thou set on descent into this world...I love this world...said the angel...but, you  are loved of heaven...and pure, of an incorruptable spirit...if only thou wilt stay, as thou wert made...heavenly...

This world is fallen...and may not now be saved...excepting this...and what is that angel...it is that...that men have, that make them men...and what is that angel...a heart...but, what need have we for heart's...we are eternal...it is not what we are...that they need...it is what they are...that we need...

The angel gazed at this angel...you are foolish angel...yet so wise...why say you thus...we are a cool and distant race...feeling is denied to us...we go not down to dust...nor, tarry by the way...inviting fury...it is fury of the judge...that make them men...that give them heart...to overcome all things...

But, they are sad and short...and are we not sad...angel...have we not  the curse of life...forever bright...and conscious...just so, angel...it is that...that you have said...that briefness that is...so sought...that thing...that simple men still have...where love is so impossible...except for sacrifice...

Sacrifice of what...dear angel...sacrifice of self...and that is why you go...dear angel...down to die...to give your wings away...to feel such mortal sorrow...why, dear angel...why...to hold them...each and everyone...within my arms...to love them all...to know that love...that is impossible...


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2015

Art: An Angel, by Sir Edward Burne- Jones 1878