Kristen Howe had written dozens of poetry that focuses on God, Heaven and angels, ever since she had lost her grandfather in December 2005.
Here's a photo of the nine choirs of angels in Heaven
The Nine Orders of Angels
There are nine orders--or ranks--of angels, descending from Heaven,
Some of them I might know, some I may not,
Just like steps of a staircase and rungs of a ladder,
I work my way up to meet God, one step at a time.
As a cherub, it's my first step to Heaven,
In any shape or size, color, race or breed, child or adult,
It doesn’t matter who I am, or what I was,
I’m part of God’s children or one of the chosen ones as God called it.
The first class of angels has a gift to see God,
They even have the gift to know God, too,
They share their outpouring of wisdom with us,
In some cases, they penetrate warmth.
I start out using my wings on my back,
Just like a bird or plane, I’ll get my first flight lessons,
Clouds will be there to catch me when I fall,
They’ll be my safety net, as other angels looked on as mentors.
Once I pass my cherubic rank, I’ll move up a notch,
I’ve been promoted as Seraphims--or Seraph angels,
Here, my small wings will expand to a bigger size,
It’ll be easier for me to guide, soar, fly and navigate.
My clouds will be in clumps of two, or even three,
It’ll be my pedestal, perch, or place to relax,
My white gown will be bigger and comfortable to wear,
I’ll also start wearing white angelic sleepers on my feet.
Just like labor and childbirth, it’s a stage in life,
Just as in death, it can bring heartache, and a sighed relief,
One month equals another rank/order on my resume,
Every three months brings me closer to the end of my trimester.
After I’ve succeeded in my seraphic lessons, take a step up,
My second promotion will be as a Throne Angel,
It’s the last stage for a beginner angel to God’s Heavenly city,
I’ll join other angels in that class to bring forth peace.
My final lessons of flight will be here,
I can touch the moon and reach the stars,
The universal sky will become my new home, now more than ever,
I can make the moon kiss the sun when night turns into day.
Cherubs, Seraphs and Thrones, all turn toward God,
They’ll know His wisdom & knowledge through direct contemplation,
All three beginner ranked angels release doves into the sky,
They’ll help bring peace to my home, and throughout the world.
After I pass my cherubic, seraphic and throne lessons,
I’ll move up into the second trimester to enter Heaven,
With my widespread wings, flowing gown and ability to fly,
The clouds become even more my home and guide.
My second class of becoming an angel has arrived,
They know God through direct contemplation of causes,
They’ll be underlying all of nature’s phenomenon,
They all contemplate principles and ideas.
Dominion Angel is now what I’ve become,
No more flight angels, as I’ll gain my halo,
It’ll be my signal, as a fourth-ranked angel above my head,
With each promotion to the last rank, a different light will glow.
I start out with a pale white light, not even dim,
I get used to the feeling of a circle above me,
Just try to balance it will take patience and faith,
I’ll get better with each practice in God’s place.
If I keep it straight above my head, and not crooked,
If I prevent it from falling off or breaking,
In which, in any case, break the light, I’ll be an angel,
I’ll pass with a smile, a raise, and a praise.
My fourth promotion is to become a Power Angel now,
With curvy, widespread wings like a bird, the glow is brighter,
From a pale white, it’ll turn to a shade of white, too,
My power is to keep it on, glowing, as I take flight.
The more experienced I become, the more ranks I’ll get,
With more practice, lessons, and knowledge, I’ll become better,
If I lose my glowing light or turns off, I keep trying,
But I don’t forget to keep it straight above my head at all times.
Once I’ve accomplished that, I’m now at the sixth rank,
From a Dominion to a Power Angel, you’re an Authority Angel,
The white light will turn into a pale yellow color,
I can use my clouds, like scooters, to scoot back and forth.
My gown will turn into a flowing angelic robe,
The clouds will be my vessels for the sky,
They’ll become puffy, fluffier and vast, like a goose-down pillow,
I’ll be able to float, become visible, and make them thin.
Now, I’ve moved up and passed into the last/third class,
My wing navigation skills and halo lessons are over,
The glow is brighter, lighter, and even more so, yellow,
With six stars underneath my belt, I have three more to go.
The last group of angels is concerned with human affairs,
They also oversee the nations of the world,
I’m getting even one step closer to God,
Even one more step closer to entering Heaven’s pearly gates.
My seventh rank in my third-trimester class is for music,
I’m a Principality Angel, watching humans and nations,
I’ll get my lessons on playing musical instruments,
I’ll get to play my favorite musical instrument--the harp or lyre.
I start out small, and begin to play basic chords,
As a novice angel, I’ll play the harp with your pick,
The wires may be synthetic or animal, and very fine and thin,
By adding harmony and melody, I made a beautifully pitched song.
I can imagine other angels in your ethereal symphony or band,
After I know how to play the basics, I can write my own,
Even by hand, God will appreciate newly written songs and lyrics,
After that, I’ll get my seventh star, and form constellations.
At my eighth rank, I’m an Archangel,
I appear to individuals on momentous occasions,
I have the power to become invisible and visible,
My ethereal glow will become a brighter, orange-yellow color.
My next musical lesson is from any musical instrument choice,
I can take my pick of brass, wind, percussion, and wood,
Besides my harp/lyre lessons, I’ll compose universal music,
God’s selections are limited for me and to chose from.
What’s my choice?; Will it be a trumpet or horn?
How about a trombone, French Horn or tuba?
There’s also the soprano or tenor saxophone,
A clarinet, a bass clarinet, or an oboe.
What about a piccolo, flute or panflute?
Or a recorder, an ocarina, or a carillon?
I can play the piano, an electric piano, or a toy piano,
Or the reed organ, pipe organ, or jazz organ.
Maybe a harpsichord, funky clavichord, or an accordion,
Or an acoustic guitar, Hawaiian guitar, jazz or rock guitar,
Perhaps an acoustic bass, or an electric bass, too,
Maybe a honky-tonk piano, or a 12-string guitar to pick from all.
There’s also the cello, banjo, mandolin, lute, or violin,
A timpani, or a steel drum . . . a glockenspiel, or marimba,
I can play the chimes, vibraphone, the triangle or cymbals,
Even the drop, a funky synthesizer, or a crystal.
Lastly, there’s the sharp bass, the drums, to tickle my fancy,
That’s all God has to offer me to play in His orchestra,
Once I’ve picked one, I’ll learn to play it well from nature,
If I don’t make God tone deaf, I’ll pass to the final stage.
After I’ve received eight stars, I’ll enter the white light,
My clouds will raise and lift me up, like steps to meet God,
I’ll enter the pearly gates of Heaven, and look down from above,
I’m now an angel, the last class of all ranked angels.
As an Angel, I watch over individuals,
I also know God through creation,
I’m also the furthest angel from direct knowledge,
I’ll fly higher with puffier clouds in the sky.
My halo is a rich yellow color, shiny, bright and glows,
As I touch a star, that’s my star of my own,
My wings are wider and curvy, true to form,
My dress is now my gown and robe with slippered feet.
I’ll learn to sing God’s universal music through songs,
As a sophomore, tenor, bass or alto, I’ll join the choir,
I’ll write God’s musical lyrics and read the Bible, know desires,
I’ll sing hymns and psalms, and read the prayers.
I have no worries about being sick, pain or being ill,
May it be it from a long battle with illness, or a crime,
May it be short, moderate or even a long time, too,
I’m healed in peace, cured by God’s love.
I can eat whatever I want, and have no worries about weight,
Calories won’t matter to me now since time’s unlimited,
I’ll sleep anytime I want unless I’m on call for duty,
And then I’ll be my loved ones’--or someone’s--Guardian Angel.
Fine Tuned with God
Eleven-and-a-half years ago, my grandfather passed away from his battle with cancer. Right after he died, this poem started it all for my angel chapbooks and acrostic poems on anything that's heavenly and angelic. I've used my old Casio keyboard's various buttons for musical instruments from the harps to the drums for part of my inspiration. I also did research on angels for this long poem and felt closer to him than ever, especially when the anniversary of his death approaches.
I let my Muse guide me to write this poem from my heart and soul. Poetry is one outlet to express your sorrow and grief to write it from your point of view. It also brought me closer to God and all of his angels every year. And I know he's one of my guardian angels who's watching over for me through and through.