"do you believe in angels?" a friend asked me last night. do i? i believe in this one, flitting through my days, often with her littler companion by her side. i believe in her divinity and her magic, and her earthiness (are angels allowed to be earthy?). "what would you do if you could fly, mama?" she asked me the other day. i thought about it. "if i could fly", i said, "i would try my best not to...". "why?" "because earth-bound is where i need to be, baby... but what about you, my love, what would you do if you coud fly?"
"i would lie down on a cloud and have a little nap, and chat with the birds, and fly to a place where i really want to be in Africa, and i would visit my friend, and i would fly further, i would fly close to the ground, in the midst of a herd of wild horses, then i would land on the back of an elephant to rest a little, and then i would fly high again, until all of Africa was a map at the back of my eye, and finally i would land in an open space with water where the elephants drink, and while i lie there in the sun, i would write a letter to papa, and i would ask a bird to bring it to papa, and throw it through his window, and then i would fly back home to you, mama, and i would lie on the bed with you, and cuddle, and rest from my journey, and read a book together, and be home again."
it sounds tame, my need to be earth-bound. it sounds like a clipped wings answer. it sounds like resignation. but seriously now, do you believe in angels?
