Angel of Stone


Beating wings against stone
smooth, white, unbreakable
the feeling almost stops
milky purity is stained
with the fear, the need
to fly higher than
songs from lifted voices reach.

Marble surrounding, pressing still
quiet as a coffins laugh
great wings were never
meant to be stilled
they shake the body
till cold envelops
with shattered chills.

Saw the angel in the stone,
swore to set it free,
great wings mustn't freeze
nor shall the flames lick
at their quills, a balance
between ice and fire
must quicken here.

Tools wrought shall be swift
for though they yield
pain to an angel caught in stone
it is never greater as it should
to free an angel trapped of stone
with fire and ice kissing
kissing its wings in quietness.

The task is not an easy one
the stone has hardened purified
it caresses the angel's back
masters hands with chalk on
his fingers loosen the the
hold the stone and angel
share in the darkness of prison cells.

Slowly as a lovers touch
as quiet as a mothers love
the hands begin to chip
away at the jailor of
heavens own trapped between
the stormy golden sky
and a frozen mountain top.

Moments upon moments of
selfless toil collide in violence
of shattered light of an angel
gaining ice and fire wings
to pull his body above
the clouds nearer the sun
and nearer the night.

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." - Michelangelo