Angel (Letters)

I have addressed my life like a letter

to arrive at your doorstep,

very likely in ravages, torn,

unrecognizably ancient, but weathered,

having weathered storms

to reach you

out of the cold,

out of the black night

riddled with snow,

out of the magical Unknown

into Whose claiming depths and reaches

I am assured that you do gaze, still,

time and time again,

and so I have flown,

by word of mouth,

by generational exchange,

by the homing pigeon,

or by the printing press,

or even a simple text:

I am addressed to you alone.

I have come through merciless places, relentless Time,

been butchered a thousand times, and fallen asleep

to dream only of you.

I am so imperfect

that I catch the Light of Stars,

Whose magnificence and bounty

we tell of

in our letters

back and forth,

to and fro, and here and there.

I am everywhere because I love you.

I am lost only by those

who forget that they have me.

I am your Angel,

and I have come

forever for you again.