Of Wind In Her Wings

When an angel worries,

She loses the grace (that so delicately)

Feathers her wings.

She can no longer fly in clouds

Equally beautiful, and lands in the world,

Unable to see herself as she deserves.

Without a chance to debate

The outcome: She is human.

She cannot transcend the mirrors

Of the earth, or the uncertainty reflected

Within their shadows that darken her sky.

I have no grace to give this angel.

Cannot compete with the memories

Of wind in her wings.

I will hold her, love her, and try to quiet

Her moments of self-doubt, so she can see how

The sun rejoices when it touches her face.

Heaven has lost an angel.

And I have found what it’s like

To soar in the clouds, (untethered)

When graced with the sun that

Nestles within her heart.