We hold our breath,
1, 2, 3, 4, 5......
No sign of movement.
Un ange passe.
Massive frame, frozen in Dutch master-piece, a dim light glimmers.
Impatience, gesticulation, fidgeting anxiety.
Be still.
Be attentive to that moment of connection.
Un ange passe.
Little by little a reassuring message can be detected, coming from afar, as if from down a well.
A well of longing.
A well of welcome.
Be attentive to that moment of connection.
Communication, established, we adjust our rhythm to the murmur of a giant.
Be still.
Little by little we become aware that we are in the company of a chorus of angels.
Some of them take human form and emerge slowly from the shadows.
Others, perhaps more shy of contact take only symbolic form.
Indiscriminately promiscuous in their shape-changing magic.
They are etched out in chaos.
They are axe-hatched in trees.
They appear in clouds.
They disappear above the waves.
Murmuring, murmuring, meaning.
Un ange passe.
We are.
We are my friends in AWE.
My friends there is sweet music in the air.
Open your ears, be still to hear.
For Terry, a giant. for Keith an angel-hunter, for Susan, an angel-seeker, for Kevin an angel-friend
so many gorgeous words....
ReplyDeleteso many beautiful angels, angel-finders, magical giants....
Nothing without listeners :-)
DeleteThe French title seems to match the English, but you've captured the sense of the original: "Der Himmel Über Berlin." Can you hear the heaven over your home?
ReplyDeleteNot only over :-) Not only home :-)
DeleteThanks for meeting me here.
Where are u?
I am in the open.
Indeed - it's everywhere, and often easier found not at home. Familiarity can let us forget to be open to awe.
DeleteI'm in Ohio, USA, and as you say, increasingly in the open.
Thanks for the angels, Simon. New ones coming, going.
ReplyDelete