WATCHER
In the stillness of the desert night, a lone figure sits atop a dune. His wings shine pale in the moonlight as he gazes up at the velvet sky. Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka - the stars of Orion's belt gleam like jewels above him.
How many eons has he perched here, watching over sleeping humanity? How many tears has he shed for their suffering? He remembers when they were newborn on this planet, helpless babes cradled in the arms of nature. He sang to them then and marvels at how far they've come.
He knows the darkness in their hearts, the madness that infects them. But he has faith still. They are growing, learning. There is goodness in them that will prevail.
As the sun begins to light the eastern sky, the angel stands and stretches his wings for flight. The day is dawning. He will keep watch, keep hoping, for as long as they need him. Wherever humanity travels, their guardian flies beside them.
FALLEN
The birds spotted her first, wheeling low in concern. Then the deer edged closer, caution mingled with curiosity in their dark eyes. Soon every creature in the forest surrounded her, drawn by the sorrow that rang from her tattered wings.
She had no memory of falling, only an impression of dizzying speed and the ground rushing up to meet her. Now pain wracked her body and her thoughts scattered like panicked birds before a storm.
As she lay helpless, the animals kept vigil with her, bushes blossoming with flowers in sympathy, the very air humming with care. The owl with wise eyes brought her food, the doe licked her wounds clean. Day by day she grew stronger under their nurturing watch until finally she could stand again.
When at last her wings were mended, she rose skyward once more as the woodland choir sang farewell. Their kindness shone in her heart like a beacon as she flew into the dawn.
MERCY
O lost child, where have your feet strayed? What paths have led you so far from home that you cannot see the light waiting to guide you back?
Your heart is shrouded in shadows that whisper cruel untruths. You cling to anger like a torch against the dark, but its harsh fire only deepens the gloom around you.
Come, let the cool breezes of mercy refresh you. Lay down the weapons fashioned from pain and pride. Empty your hands of bitterness. I will fill them with gentleness and wrap you in understanding more soothing than the softest down.
The good deeds of others should inspire your own, not inflame jealous vengeance. With kindness as your armor, no darkness can touch you. With compassion as your sword, no evil can defeat you. O lost child, come home, and go in peace.
RAIN
Do you feel the change in the wind, subtle but certain? Listen - can you hear the distant thunder heralding the storm’s approach? The drought that held the land in its cruel grip is ending. Gather your hope close, prepare to welcome the life-giving rains.
They will come sweetly, gently, whisper soft on thirsty ground. Roots long withered will drink again. Cracked soil will turn supple, night-blooming hearts unfold. Keep faith a little longer. The skies are shifting, the clouds beginning to loosen.
Soon joy will fall in shimmering sheets, washing the dust of grief from your face, quenching regret’s desiccated places. What was barren will blossom anew, brilliant with generosity, compassion, forgiveness. Lift your face then and open your soul’s parched places. The rain is coming - can you feel it?