To the Angel of Angels

“I’m not an angel.” she told me
“Where are my wings?” she added
I guess she cannot see them
But I know that they are there
How else would she give me flight
When I hold her as close as I can?
How could she have taken me
To heights above Earth’s meager sky?
Higher than one dare to dream of
If she is not truly an angel of angels
Why does her voice sound of peace,
Love, mercy, compassion to me?
If she is not a creature of heaven
Then why would her silky skin
Taste of unearthly delight and joy?
If she were not born in heaven
For what reason would I be saved
By her from all suffering and pain?

You may not see your bright wings
Oh angel, but I know they are there.