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Mythical Winged Creature

What is an angel?

Not a person.

Not a name. 

Not an occupation.

Not a hobby.

Not a self-given title.

Not like having tenure.

Not a real thing; or is it?

I might never find out 

that answer. 

I am real, or as real 

as real is to me.

So maybe all I should do

is pretend to live like an angel,

the way I think an angel would be

if angels are real.

They would use their love

and light;

they would share it all,

and teach people to appreciate 

peace and beauty and truth and 

Love. 

If I can do that, then anyone can. 

Pretend, I mean.

It is so sweet to be called an angel,

so loving and kind and generous. 

I might seem otherwise,

the truth is, 

I am just a person. 

A sinner,

like everyone else. 

We all are, 

I hope you know.

To pretend to be an angel

is sweet and kind and generous too.

I might never know

what an angel is like;

I might not mind. 

Have you ever wondered why

we all are prone to sin? 

Innocence is left behind so early in life.

Maybe an angel

must first experience sin,

and make the choice between

a life of battling sin

or of succumbing to

or even relishing

a life devoted to sin. 

Maybe the angels have always been

free of sin. 

It is a fancy

to wonder if anyone has ever met an angel. 

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