In a
world full of secrets it's strange to me that most people assume that angels
don't really exist. Or if they do, that they exist only as symbols and
metaphors. Products of religious and artistic imagination. And yet, even
symbols contain incredible gravity, shaping both our internal and external
experiences. It's strange to me, but I do understand. Despite our fondness for
fiction we're still a little distrustful of that aspect of ourselves that
enjoys flirting with the unseen. We crave the feeling of rapture, utter
engagement, of being lifted by those gossamer-spun feathers, yet we cannot
truly imagine the wingspan. Perhaps on some level we question whether we're
worthy of such guardianship. Because we know ourselves, don't we? Better than
we let on. Our dreams and desires. Those parts of us that others would call
wild, dangerous, or immodest. We are so attuned to the subtle dynamics of
social awareness, after all. The economy of interrelationship in which we all
exist. We think it foolish to needlessly threaten what value we may possess in
the eyes of others. And so we stay quiet, occasionally bartering without words.
Ka’shayel does find it strange and unsettling, but rather beautiful in its own
way. The hidden vulnerabilities all around, the silent negotiations between all
souls. Even I play at being something more than a mortal man. In these
illumined pages, at least. And such play isn't entirely untrue either. As I
said, angels really do exist. Can I tell you a secret, dear one? Most angels,
especially those who have never walked the Earth, are both fascinated and
frightened by mortal desire. Ka’shayel has lived as flesh for a thousand years,
and has no such fear. Fascination aplenty, however. Make no mistake. Human
beings like to think they're in control of their desires. But desire is,
by its very nature, untameable. Always tugging at the reins, testing
boundaries, craving absolute freedom and satiety. It's a paradox, of course.
Because true satiety is the death of desire. We crave the touch of the
attractive, the unseen or forbidden, but the best of us are at least half-aware
that we must never be gluttons. There should always be the promise of more.
More fire, more insight, more depth. Anything less is not only the death of
desire but the annihilation of romance itself. We crave always to be seen,
don't we? Stirred in the most primal of places. Surprised and kindled into
presence. Deep appreciation for another and for life itself. Living on that
exquisite edge between comfort and chaos. I, as a threshold messenger of sorts,
am a devoted champion of both presence and genuine romance. Language is
beautiful. Just ask any poet or writer. But silvered prose means nothing if
there is no truth behind your fiction. Words can beguile momentarily, as we are
caught in the dizzying rush of an elegant sentiment, but words fade. Ephemeral
and absent without a discerning insight beneath them. Then, without integrity,
all you are is a serpent. Not a poet after all. A simple deceiver, of which
there are many. So, when I say I'm an angel I hope that complex truth speaks
for itself. Contextually, emotionally, artistically. I’m a passionate being and
I desire many things. I'm unapologetic in this regard. But I care about the
individual. I really do. Because without
specificity, without actual love and care, desire is just greed; an artless,
thoughtless consumption. We don't always get the things we want, and we must be
ok with that, because we don’t love someone just to obtain them. That’s
acquisition and control, not love. No, we fall in love with someone because
that person is unique, incredible, and spiritually captivating. Perhaps we
cannot touch them with our hands, but we can reach them with our mind and
heart. We can write a love-letter even if they never read it. We can say
something genuine, even if couched in shimmering verse. So, dear ones, reach
out in yearning for the full, wild complexity of human desire. Be vast and full
of earned depth. Mischievous and playful, yet utterly sincere. Those who are
truly paying attention will sense it, even from afar.
