"A Deeper Calm (poem)" by James Andrew Bowers

A Deeper Calm

part 1- To Heaven Was Sent...

parched lips,
cracked wide in the center,
spread
and reveal a few decayed teeth.
sound,
barely a whisper,
more a wheeze,
drifts up on rank air.
a prayer,
truly heart felt,
starts to rise from the stench
but is cut short by crackling coughs.

the dying man waits for his breathing to settle
and begins again.

parched lips,
cracked wide in the center,
spread 
and beg for forgiveness,
              for healing
              for another day's breaths.
a prayer
takes shape 
and speeds towards its goal.
it reaches the gates of pearl
and pleads its way into heaven.
in fields 
of ivory and amethyst
it finds a sympathetic ear,
the ear of an angel.
the angels whole body aches 
to hear the pain.
he stretches his wings and takes aim,
follows back along the path of the prayer.

part 2-And From Heaven Came... 

a bubble,
shimmering crimson,
expands
and explodes upon the dying man's lips.
a deeper calm
settles into an already quiet room.
The dying man raises his eyes
because he can no longer 
raise his head.

before him stands the angel.

"greetings, my dearest brother,"
lilts the angel's voice.
the man's jaw opens and closes
as if to speak,
but no sound issues forth.

the angel takes a corner of his robe
and wipes away the drying red freckles 
from the dying man's lips.
a muffled gurgle sounds 
low in the man's throat,
clearing the passage once again 
for the man to speak.

"wise angel, 
will you take away this cancer
that is eating me alive?"
"no, that I cannot do,
however,  I bear with me a boon,
and this I present to you."

a perfect, pale white hand 
reaches out and rests itself
on the man's rough, yellow paw.
a few seconds pass like hours
before anyone speaks again.

"angel, what is it you have brought me?"
"the greatest gift an angel may give."
 "but angel, my failing eyes see nothing before me."
"I thought all that carried faith
strong within their hearts knew that
just because you don't see something 
it doesn't necessarily mean it's not there."

and again time grates past,
ticking away on the dying man's 
rasping breaths.

"please, angel, forgive me if I ask again,
for my time draws short,
and I feel I must know,
what is it you have brought me?"
without a word,
the angel rises to his feet.
he takes a few steps from the bed,
spreads his wings,
and disappears in a shout of white light.
he leaves behind only an echo.
the echo of a single word-

"hope."

JAMES ANDREW BOWERS
NOVEMBER 16, 2000