Angel Wings

The coat is old and evergreen
the lapels long and wide,
he wears trouser hugging gaiters;
his boots are made from hide.

Head bare and shaven at the crown
upright and still, he stands;
feeding the pigeons on town square
taking grain from his hands.

To see what makes the pigeons dance
Passers-by, old and young
are stopping to watch this strange man
crooning in a foreign tongue.

From his pockets he hands out seed
uttering strange, weird words
which cause a clamour far and wide
to flock the square with birds.

Then lifting up his arms to sky
the pigeons take to wing
and in the sunless firmament
about him form a ring.

White doves appear and rest on him
their feathers hide his face;
away he walks and disappears
beneath the birds embrace.

Empty faces looking, eyes stare
arching up to heaven
the clouds parting reveals the sun
then someone says, amen

Amen, He is born again.

Tony Ashenden copyrright 2023