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Angels Sleeping
Earth angels sleep and wake amongst us,
Impossibly distant and misunderstood
Like faeries, absorbing the blue days.
After each dawn, they internalise sunrise,
So that it brightens all within their range.
While we speculate, judge and theorise,
They will appear to smile in a gentle haze,
Because the whole earth now owns them.
We find them like fruit bats upside-down,
Or sensory, or like stars recently formed,
Until it appears as if our own dim world
Has turned on its axis. We lose all balance,
So that our perspective is suddenly shifting,
Just by focusing on them, worlds apart, like
Bright little dreams: possum, insect, otherkin.
In their natural element they will blossom.
Nature opens her gates flooding their senses.
Little wonders, perfect beings, as you are,
Lost in an imperfect and in-human world.
May you shine on, my sweet autistic child.
May you fill in all the non-human spaces
With your bright cries and whimperings,
Like little birds who call through rainbows.
How I love your wide-eyed differences
And your solitary, gentle, ungainly tendencies
And your locked-in lonely fears and terrors
And the miracle of your courage and ingenuity.
We are as yet 'unknown' to each other -
You pass by our long winters like butterflies,
Psyches overlapping and missing the signals.
But earth angels sleep and wake amongst us
See how they sparkle and rest at midday,
Where the drowsy waterfalls turn misty,
Gathering the overhead light and moisture,
Into their shoulders for pure strength.
Burning wings of love, into themselves.
They are growing as they internalise,
with the crystalline senses of an infant,
And being neither remote, nor present,
They can often vanish without a trace,
Reminding us of a halo we could not grasp.
We are made to question space and time,
Hanging constellations shine and adrift.
Just know that you are loved by such angels
Because their universe within is pure light.
How they bathe their frail and glorious heads
In silver golden hues, absorbed and aloof,
Like concrete cupids edging into a fountain,
Their worlds remain locked away from us,
As the sun sustains them like a mother,
Since they have never truly landed here. |
