The Angel Who Walked

By all other means, he should have flown
and been like the rest, but he never chose
to do what the similar angels did.
He was different, a rebel,
so he walked instead.

Never have I seen his temper flare.
He’s calm, pleasant, and always there
to help others when their strength wears thin,
soundly offers advice,
he is everything.

Often he’d walk alongside me,
that symbol of undying serenity.
We’d laugh and smile and make small talk,
and even though he could fly
he'd rather walk.

I think I loved him more than I should,
just a little bit more than brothers would.
I could never confess, yet how could I stand
to keep it inside
that I loved a man?

The years passed by with happiness,
the angel who walked and I at his left,
never telling him how I cared for him so
much more than a friend,
but he'd never know.

He’d acquainted a girl a few years ago;
my heart fairly shattered when they said they betrothed.
But I feigned happiness and watched them be wed.
I smiled and laughed —
inside I was dead.

He moved far away and I walked alone.
He started a family; I started a jones.
Strong drink and sleep, keep him out of my mind.
It's the only thing left
since my heart has died.

I could be anything, could go anywhere.
My friends tell me this but I don’t really care.
They say I can make it since I'm fairly smart,
but I wished that I’d never
been born with a heart.

I picked up the pieces my life had become
and stitched it together, tried to have fun.
Tried to smile and laugh like he’d make me do
But those days were old past
and my life painted blue.

And one summer day, after years had been four,
my angel came waltzing back through my front door.
I must have looked shocked for he asked what was wrong.
I said, “Nothing. Nothing.”
Nothing at all.

And we laughed like old times far into the night;
it was as if my heart had come back to life.
Though only a visit, a short rendezvous,
it did my soul well
and I told him so, too.

He grinned and embraced me, my angel of light,
and he told me to visit him any time.
My heart leaped when he said that he'd keep in touch
since he cared about me
so very much.

So sometimes in summer, in the fading twilight,
we two old friends will stroll side by side.
The angel with me needn’t have to talk;
he says quite enough
by choosing to walk.


A/N: A little Sage/Rowen thing going on here, in case you didn’t pick that up.