Lit eZine Vol 3 | p-17 | FICTION | Angel of Earth and Angel of Sky

FLASH FICTION

ANGEL OF EARTH AND ANGEL OF SKY
by Brian Michael Barbeito

sometimes the fog and mist were present and the marshlands became impossibly quiet. the lonesome coyote on the way back from somewhere paused and looked up, then continued along the hardly perceptible trail. the clouds blocked the moon and the clouds would block the sun. some souls in the outside world took the path of just that, the world. most in fact. but there were others, in each metropolis outskirt and rural place, who differed on their soul path. artisans, sculptors, and sometimes poets. rarely, a genuine mystic. and most rare, someone enlightened. the red-winged blackbirds had gone away to somewhere and the monarch butterflies too. the sea was remembered. warm rain on metal railings. moments in time. the old man said, like a modern Heraclitus, but one who despised books, ‘Everything changes, doncha know that?’ the branches barren for autumn’s tide and then winter borne, waited stoically or sadly in the cold rains. what could they do? nobody paid attention to them one way or the other, as they say. how far is a soul’s journey to itself? again. in light. not any worldly light but the truer and truest light, the light of truth. I AM. what did the air contain? spirits? sometimes the sunlight of robust summer atmosphere. sometimes, the early autumnal colours splashing and dashing and dancing. spring hope too? and the fog and mist. rueful. crestfallen. melancholic. solitary. lonesome. lost. oh, angel of earth and angel of sky both, do you ever sigh or sing or good presence bring?