I used to have an illustrated version of the Bible. Those were my bedtime stories and my first thoughts in the morning.
I remember reading about angels and how they looked after people. So, I used to ask older people about it — If we could see them, what they looked like, how would it feel to touch them or be touched by them, where do they find us, where could we find them. They answered that angels were anywhere. That God could not be present all the time and even He would tire from time to time. Therefore, it was up to the angels to take care of people. I was told that they mainly took the shape of birds. Any kind. And if one happened to land by your feet, it was the grace of God watching over you.
That is how I concluded that I wanted to be a bird. To seize the skies and land next to others’ feet so as no one feels alone again. To make people feel that someone is out there for them. And somehow that would make it all okay.
On any given day that I turn my head up and gaze at the vast skies I wish I were a bird so I could land close to your feet and let you know you are not alone. To let you know that someone cares enough. More than enough. To let you know that I act like you every time I manage to do that. I am you because I know you are mine. Sometimes we are locked in our worries like birds that are doomed to fly no matter what. These are the times I pass through a big open gate where a sheer white light embraces me, while I enjoy the gentle breeze fanning me. The choir of angels surrounding me is actually, all the promises you whispered into my ears and I saw happening at the cusp of creation of a new paradise.
I have become capable of reaching it as I recall how you cleansed parts of me you had never yourself tainted. Even so you felt the necessity to fix my blemishes all the time and let us live with all of them in the harmonious melody of the choir in the background. Occassionally, I watch my motions and it all feels like a foolish lover’s act. Hence, this nonsensical fear, this nonsense tumbling underneath the weight of this crippling fear, surrounds me thinking you might leave.
My knees jerk and I digress. One second I’m looking myself in the mirror examining my moves, and the next I look at you sitting right beside me, smiling at my face. I trace my fingers down your spine and this sense of regaining order out of fear in head makes me feel like I have regained access to home again. I slip into the moment, I slip into your eyes as I trace my fingers across the sky’s silhouette just a moment after I have taken them from your spine. Your reflection lingers in front of my face and mirrors in the whitest cloud.
It was all about the view, I knew it from the start.