Of Angels....

I stand in awe, in wonder,
Do the angels I see contemplate me as contemplate them?
In their silent, maternal beauty, they stare,
blankly,
unseeing,
knowingly,
The same way I see them,
I am still,
cloaked,
in the darkness we have learned to share,
Shall I be eternal, immortal, like them?
Or shall I be forgotten,
unseen,
condemned,
To a life, a death, of forgotten existence,
But they are forever watching,
watched,
By those who may never,
can never,
understand their still grace,
May I be their equal? Or shall I bow,
kneel,
in their humbling presence,
I chose one to touch,
feel,
I stretch, grasp, reach,
to touch her frozen face,
She is cold to touch,
like me,
Her lips, long paled,
like mine,
Her eyes, long glazed,
unmoving,
Her ears, they still listen,
we hope,
but no,
they have long been deaf,
We mirror one another, but I realize that in their grace and beauty,
they have lost,
Lost the will to care,
hope,
dream,
adore,
Instead, they stand, watching us from haughty perches,
Beauty and immortality their only virtues,
And so I depart, with a new sense, new aspirations, still cloaked in my shadows,
But with a ray of light that they forgot,
I hope to never be like them, for I am stronger than the stone angels who no longer care,

But still.. I wish... to be like her


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