I once met an Angel along my path. He said 'hold my hand and walk on air. Taste beauty and let your heart rest on me, just for a little while.'
I dropped my journey and flew a new wind.
The Angel was light and floated into my mind. I became blind to my life and saw only the flowers of heaven.
This heaven was a place of darkness, for in it, my ears were closed.
I heard the fluttering of wings and a sweet breath crept slowly down my neck. When I opened my eyes, it was still darkness but I was not in heaven.
I touched the Angel but my fingers were pricked. I was cold and weary and left to weep alone. I looked for shelter and found solace in a little shade. A voice said I would be fine. It was the Angel. I searched again. The more I held onto the dream, the more I got lost in the journey.
I tried to go back to the beginning but the road was no more. I had no feet because the Angel had given me wings. Flying was tiresome but I saw mountains and clouds and rivers. A voice said 'you can do it!' It was the Angel. But this time, the Angel was not bright and was wearing my blood. There was evil in the eyes of the Angel but his laughter rung like a thousand bells, singing my praises.
He gave me food and asked me to go away from heaven. I was lost again. I saw other people on my journey. I spoke to them but they were blind and deaf and did not come my way. I shouted again and again and my eyes and ears opened. A bird was singing. The stars twinkled. 'Is that a flower?' I asked.
One traveler pointed at my heart and another one saw my feet. I was walking and my wings were flying. The Angel came back in my dream and now he was glorious. I cried because I could not see him. He stood at my door and said he had never left. I looked in the mirror and I saw it was true. My Angel was always there but I did not know him.
My Angel spoke like me and said my name. He used my voice and had my hands. I asked why the Angel stole this things from me. My voice answered 'But you have always been flying!' My wings were spread out and my face was pure.
My story was told by the Angel. The other travelers came back to listen. They marveled at me and my art. they asked, 'How do you do this things?' and the Angel said 'I have always done them, you just did not know.'Labels: Angel, Contemplation, Dreaming