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The Angel



Something appears before him.
It is the most beautiful thing ever
in space and time.
Let us call it an angel.
"I will not serve you," he said.
"I will not fight you," he said.
"I might love you," he said,
"I might not be able to not love you."
He stood before this most beautiful thing
and wondered at her unprecedented beauty.
"I will not follow you," he said.
"I will not leave you," he said.
"What would you have me do?" he said.
And he waited.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.