Celestial Beings

A familiar aroma wafted towards me, As I looked up into blue azure skies, And far beyond, a golden horizon. I could barely see the shapes of an old Man holding a young child’s hand, The man wore a long white robe And was smoking a handcrafted Pipe, and the spiraling smoke from it, Triggered a memory, who was this man. He didn’t speak much until I asked him who the child was, He Granted us a short encounter The old man said, So that you can briefly meet. Tears rolled down my face As I took the child And held him tightly in my arms, For an everlasting moment, a miracle! We are your guardian angels he said, Taking back my bundle of life, And gradually disappearing with his Charge, leaving behind a trail of smoke The aroma of which was distinctly the Tobacco my father smoked. My father Holding my child's hand, his grandson Who died when only five days old, And whom I had never met, Celestial beings permitted to appear, And just as quickly disappear, Their message I believe, that one day we Would meet, in the presence of His love Within the realms of heaven above. Poem of the Day - 18.9.2021