Miel is a licensed teacher, a "Jane-of-all-trades" master of none, with a passion for writing.
Sequel to Dear Gummy Bear
The first time I saw his face, I recognize he's an angel.
Angels aren’t perfect for they likewise battle demons like us. The only contrast is that angels take along with them their intimate radiance even when they are exhausted.
More so, angels grow in beauty. They conceal their loveliness in excess fats but, not once, can they veil how gorgeous they always are.
These wingless angels stride like humans. But they leave spatters of hope, love, wisdom, strength, and God’s reflection in every space they take a trip. How could you not love an angel?
Meeting an angel like you in my life is my greatest miracle.
Like driftwood, I sail, swim, glide, and sink in a never-ending cycle of the perplexed cruise. I, as well, contended with my demons.
But if I were an angel before, the monsters have all wolfed my wings. And they imprisoned my spirit. I became a nonentity.
I’ve rummaged and hunted, and still, I was lost. Even so, I was always an empty shell.
Only a wounded angel can mend a wounded soul. My heart forever venerates God for I wallowed in my angel's light. I couldn’t ask for more even when I want to.
Loving an angel
When you adore an angel, you merely want to see his smiles first thing in the morning. And look into his eyes every single night for the rest of your life. The angel’s eyes will show you God’s immense love for you.
But I see my angel’s smiles in every morning prayer I have. I look into his eyes in every sea of clouds when I look up to revere God.
Be crazy about an angel is daydreaming of walking with him daily for a regular muscle stint to witness God’s sensations all around us. And we may perhaps also speak about whatever sane and ridiculous matter our eccentric minds can ponder.
So far, I still walk with my angel every day. Every step I take is with God’s direction through my angel’s prayers. What’s more, I imagine him walking with me when the breeze touches me.
Finding an angel irresistible is being patient with God’s master plan for each one of us. Though my angel walks among us, I’m sure God crafted him to be one of His masterpieces. He is, in fact, God’s best dream.
And with no doubt, I’m sure God has plans for me as well. God’s spell of rain and sunshine will pour upon me richly. I will grow in His time and grace.
I fancy his presence with me in my dream abode anyplace reserved hemmed in trees, plants, and garden of flowers and vegetables. A dwelling, I imagine, which we both could listen to the birds’ praise and worship to God every morning.
Sitting by the corner, we would sometimes spend our lazy day reading our favourite books after a contest of humour and common sense. Though I am definite, he’ll continuously prevail.
When nightfall sets in motion, we’ll reveal our day’s highs and lows. He will waltz with me with my favourite song under a candle’s flicker or moonlight. God will smile with us every night. And expire the day with a gratitude prayer.
We won’t hulk, or throw hammers, nor fire ammunitions, but there will often be war. But at the end of the day, his hugs and kisses will be enough to mend the whole thing.
And I will grow old with this princely angel. I will not let a day end without telling him how more blessed my days are because he exists. And he’ll never break out from my streams of hugs and kisses. If so, I’ll thieve smackers while my angel rests.
I want to drown in the ocean of his presence. The grip of his wings defeats all my beasts. I was home all along with my angel.
We draw our swords together and battle side by side with our demons. My light is now shining brighter because of him. And each other’s arms will be home to a weary fighter. As well as his whole image will be my nurse restoring me. Hoping mine will be his too.
May he forgive me. I hope he lets me savour my high spirits. His charisma still floods my whole entity.
I’d instead love him from a distance and live a solo life than establish myself with someone I discern as a gap-filler.
Behind closed doors, I sustain loving him for more than a decade. What’s a lifetime to continue?
Because loving him is nothing like walking in the dark towards nothingness again. I may for a second-time step in the shade, but my love for him will show me the way.
And though he doesn't love me the way I do, I wouldn't trade all of these for anything. I'd rather live a hundred lifetimes loving him than living a life without a home.
If I kick the bucket first, I wish he makes me happier by bringing me flowers on my chamber. I’ll carry with me my daydreams and wishes. For in them, I am always with him.
I want to stay here in my dreams. And I’d wait for a hundred more years for him.
Prequel to the Last Leg of Revelation.
Hundred More Years by Francesca Battistelli
© 2019 Miel Reyes
Miel Reyes (author) from Philippines on September 04, 2019:
Thank you, indeed I poured out my heart into this :-) God bless you!
Lorna Lamon on August 28, 2019:
So haunting and emotionally charged, your writing touched my heart.