TROUBLE WITH ANGELS
hanging out with Angels means deciding
making the choice I can't be near Them
learn at Their invisible knees of wisdom
if I just run with the party-hearty crowd
solitude's the temple where Angels teach
better sport spiritual sunglasses though
Their Light's as blinding as the noon sun
it's not that we see Them They see us!
see right through us see straight down
to our bare souls--all shadows expunged!
our trouble with Angels is the intensity
of Their ardor it's not like mortal love
stuttering compromised full of doubt
They love impeccably They never stop
never cease Their service for an instant
not warm and fuzzy or cuddly and tame
Angels instruct with a fierce exactitude
They compel us to transform ourselves
painfully shedding our old brittle husks
we're dumbstruck capsized by wonder!
once we feel such transcendent Intimacy
it changes us we're pierced by Holy Joy!
our worst loneliness isn't for each other
it's to be cut off from the Eternal Realms
Angels illuminate our aching to go Home
***
Whether we know it or not, there are more highly evolved spiritual Beings--usually undetectable by our five senses--who attend us, interact with us, teach us and guide us, if we're awake and receptive to their influence. But "solitude''s the temple where Angels teach." If we're not willing or able to go there--off alone, away from the busy, distracting everyday world--we're not likely to encounter Them. And if perchance we do, it's not likely to be a "warm and fuzzy or cuddly and tame" experience! Because Their gaze pierces straight through to the core of our souls, and most of us can't bear to feel so drastically exposed--even to, especially to!-- Divine Love. But how else can we be healed?
SIDEKICK TO SOMEONE
No words can express the abyss
between isolation and having one ally.
-- G.K. Chesterton
I'm the sidekick to Someone without a face
Who smiles nonetheless
Someone silently walks beside me
although They have no feet
I'm the junior partner in a conglomerate
whose central office is Eternity
there's a cosmic laughter that's no joke
that star-quake reshuffles all my molecules
a single seismic chuckle shivers my bones!
"Mr Self-Pity" snubs this Invisible Friend
"Mr Poor Me" squats with his tin cup
begging crumbs from total strangers
meanwhile my Divine Pal juggles diamonds!
outer eyes are for scanning everyday things
inner vision pierces straight to the soul
outer ears register human sounds and voices
inner listening flares open to Angels' songs!
I've got one foot still on the dock
the other already in the boat
and the tide's going out time to set sail
just my Shipmate and me
time to dare the bravest voyage!
we navigate a foam-flecked ocean of stars...
***
The alienating illusion is that we're all ultimately isolated. Consequently, we're always needy and longing for other humans to somehow fill the void of our chronic loneliness. But the actual, cosmic Reality is that we're never alone! We each indeed do have a Guardian Angel--as corny and deluded as that may sound in the withering blast of political cynicism and scientific materialism. Nevertheless, I know from overwhelming personal encounter that it's true. When I think I'm incurably alone, the master--or rather victim--of my fate, then I'm blind to the greater Reality. But when I humbly and gratefully play my natural part as "sidekick to Someone"--then I awaken to the life I was meant to live and the person I was born to be.
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