i am able to dance with angels

when the sky sheds millions

of scintillating tears,

that illuminate the earth.

i hear their merry laughter-

as delicate as the silken sound

of a harp string, beneath

easy fingers that know no sin

comforting are the sounds of

golden harps that serenade the moon,

becoming the sweet wind of the witching hour                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

yet when the gaze of the moon

becomes sinister, i do not panic

i seize Sin’s glacial palm-

adorned in gossamer gloves

and ride upon a nefarious chariot

of danger beneath

the forlorn gazes of gabriel

and his heavenly companions.