I’ve been unaware of angels, on Earth, for my whole life. And I mean the real ones. Not the little kids that moms call “my angel.” No. I mean the ones I might have even unwittingly entertained. And I’ve entertained hundreds of thousands of people over the years.
But apparently it’s easy to be unaware of angels.
Which I find odd. Especially since, according to the descriptions I’ve read, they seem like they’d be hard to miss. Because apparently a lot of them carry swords. And one source I found described an angel with a body like beryl. In case you’re not familiar with what that is, it’s a very hard mineral “when transparent, of much beauty. It occurs in hexagonal prisms, commonly of a green or bluish green color.”
Imagine facing someone whose body looks like that. But there’s more to the description. It also said “his face like the appearance of lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and the sound of his words like the sound of a multitude.”
Wow! Does that sound like someone who could pass you by without you even noticing?
Of course, the source I’m talking about, that says you can be unaware of angels even when you’re right there with them, also shows how angels can take on human form.
And THAT’S the key.
After all, if they can look like you or me or some other person here on Earth, naturally (and I use that word on purpose) they could be easy to miss.
But I think that’s the point. Someone once said to entertain strangers. And that some who have done that have “unwittingly entertained angels.”
So, even if you don’t pass by someone, today, who has a lightning face, flaming torch eyes, bronze arms and legs, and a voice that sounds like a huge crowd, don’t be mean to strangers. Especially when they alliterate.
Untirely Unaware
Tinkling trinkets twinkled through the tiny town.
Lots of lemon drops were lofted by a clown.
And the muffins made with mandarin were sweet
As the fireworks and fireflies lit up the street.
With one glance a glad glissando glided by.
And a perfect pizzicato pierced the sky.
You might ask where was this wonderment beheld.
I won’t tell you, and I cannot be compelled,
‘Less, of course, you’d share the shelter of your shade
With the people passing by in the parade.
Then l’d treat you to the treasures tendered there
As you aided an archangel unaware.
© 2013
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Stay tuned,
