Becoming Angel (That Wing Thing, Mostly Fully Realized)

So, today, Halloween, on my drive home, listening to 47 different remixes of Kylie Minogue’s “Timebomb” loud enough to almost but not quite blow out my 15 year old car speakers, all the sudden the Angel Wings — unfolded. Passing up and through all physical boundaries, at 60 miles per hour, very much unexpectedly, they pushed out to their full width and height (though I’m pretty sure they get infinite in the right situations) and there I was, Angel and Not Angel at the same time, trying to keep my car on the road in the rain while sitting flabbergasted at the power emanating from my back and my shoulders and my being.

I kid you not, I knew these things were big, but damn and wow, these things are freaking huge. Like well over 7 or 8 times bigger than my car, each, which is quite a bit bigger than you’d think until you’re sitting there with all this wing reaching up and out of your car roof and windows. And they stayed up and out most of my 40 minute drive home. Which is awkward on country back roads.

They not for flying. I thought flying was the ultimate, but this is way bigger than that.

These wings are for dancing. Dancing with the universe. Creating energy from nothingness. Exhaling the dark matter that our scientist still can’t really identify or verify except it has to be there because we can’t imagine what else could possibly be there, in the space between spaces. Molding matter into new shapes. Making art out of love. Making stars out of atoms. Big hairy important stuff that I thought was reserved for God, but now realize is really too small for Herself to handle personally but must be delegated to the minions.

I have no idea what I created, but it was pretty fabulous and I hope I know it when I see it.

Oh, and the Halo — it’s not a hoop or a circle — it’s a spiral. And it spirals up forever.

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