To Be With The Angels

I was at Strathclyde Park walking on my own on 29th December, getting towards the end of my walk, when I notice a gull gliding above me. It moved so slowly and elegantly. I thought how my younger brother, David, who loved birds, would have enjoyed watching the scene. As sometimes happens in my mind, words and ideas started coming to me, and looking at these things mindfully, I felt they were positive and quite uplifting.


So I went back to the car - I was virtually at the car park in any case - and took out the wee notebook I keep there and started to write down words as they had come to my mind a minute or so earlier. I then trusted my mind to allow others words to come and to stop whenever my mind felt the job was done.


So here's what I wrote, then at the end, a photograph of my original piece of paper.


This is for my brother, David, who died a year ago, in December, age 57.


To be with the angels

as they fly in the sunset sky

on their way to God - or to play,

which is to say, the same thing,


to spend eternity with them,

but for a while,


and to be eternal like them,

just for a while.


To fly, to live, to die -

which is, to live and never die.





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© 2019 by Martin Stepek.