Heaven Scent

The mystery woman was an angel- Unknown to all, until the farewell! Issued solely by the Lord of Lords, To resolve things that He abhorred. In a move shattering the orthodox, God created a marvellous paradox- Of two completely opposing facts, While still leaving reality intact. She was the smoke, without any fire, She was the chorus, without a choir; Like a dream that fades upon awaking, Like a stranger in the fog mistaking. Quietly, covertly, did she contrive, Like busy bees in their little hive; But lived always in His secret room, Undaunted by any difficulty or gloom. She truly was here, yet also was not, Sweet as the cardinal's first apricot; The stronger reality, however, lingers- Somehow she slipped through our fingers!