The Angel of Death

She walks the tight rope between life and death. Teetering along the way for awhile. Tired, unable to take the pain any longer , she decides to fall.
Leaning out on the tight rope wanting to let go........life calls back to her. Now frozen in time she refuses to move. Panting and sweating, tears falling from her eyes. She struggles to keep her balance.


Lowering herself she sits on the rope desperate to make her decision. Time stands still. Her mind races trough her life, did she close out her life as she wanted? Did she really live to the fullest? Did she love deeply? Did she cherish each moment? The rope begins to slowly and slightly swing beneath her.


I sit quietly with yarn in hand crocheting and watching the beauty form in my fingers. A soft stir of wings diverts my attention. I look up and meet the face of the Angel of Death. Neither male nor female, with beautiful features. Dressed in a white bellowing shirt made of a fiber I do not recognize. Black pants and black knee high boots. The smell of flowers is over whelming . The smell of funeral flowers fill my senses. I turn back to my work and continue to direct my yarn.


In a deep not spoken and not sung, whispered yet projected voice the Angel says, "I'm waiting on your Mother witch. My eyes meet the angels. "No kidding?" I reply. "So am I,waiting and pondering.


Shifting raven black wings the angel leans forward to look at me closer. With a small tilt of the head the angel asks "Can we speak for a bit?" "Most living fear me and it's not every day I find a living soul to chat with." "I indeed become a bit lonely at times."
My blue eyes meet the angels jaded green eyes. I lean forward and inches from the angels face I say "You chose to walk the labyrinth of death for eternity, tell me why angel"


The small space we are in fills with musical laughter and the angel rocks with amusement."Don't play with me witch!" You know why"
"Yes, I know, but you haven't laughed that hard for over a hundred years."I reply.
We sit and talk for a bit and and must say I really enjoyed the company. The grim reaper calls out and I know the angel is needed else where. I take the angels right hand in my left and run my other hand down a soft black wing. Locking eyes I whisper, "When you come for me can I fight you tooth and nail?" "Make you carry me off screaming and kicking?"
With a smirk the angel says,"You wont, you know to much to put up a fuss!" "With you,when it is your time, I will come and you will take my hand and walk into the light with me; laughing and chatting like the old friends." Again the small space fills with musical laughter and I join in this time.


The Reaper clears his throat and the angel kisses the top of my head, swings swiftly away and flies into the darkness. I turn to the Grim Reaper and blow him a kiss. He grunts and mumbles a complaint. Your so cute when your pearly white cheek bones turn pink I call out to him.


"Knock it off Witch" he bellows. You know I can't smile with out muscles and it is not nice to torment the Reaper.
With a giggle, just a tinny tiny bit on the wicked side I return to my yarn. Thankful for the friendship and diversion from my own emotions, for the short time it lasted anyway. Thankful for my yarn to keep me from going off the emotional edge.


Beginning a double crochet row I again begin the wait, as my Mother walks the tight rope between life and death.

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