Interview with An Angel
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Written on May 3rd 2025 for Anthony Biaanco's The Interview (3) Poetry Contest Number 2 Angel.
I normally don't write this way but my birthday is coming up soon and another year without my nana and I saw the contest. So this just came out.
I stand waiting patiently, on bated breath, outside a gilded gate.
The scent of freshly burning frankincense glides over the clouds.
Looking down, I nervously play with the skin around my nails.
A warm anxiety pumps through my veins.
Time is of consequence here.
Closing my eyes to center myself,
I rearrange my thoughts, place questions in the right order—
for I'll be here only briefly before being sent back.
As I open my eyes, readjusting to the blinding light,
an angel comes to escort me through the gates.
I'm led to a pearlescent room and told to sit upon the alabaster chair.
She asks if I'm comfortable.
I reply, "Why yes, thank you. Quite."
"Now, I heard you pleading on your knees,
heart in your hand, to talk to me."
I reply, "Yes, I am just seeking answers.
You see, my Nana suffered so long before being taken from me—why?
Why did she have to have that suffering in her eyes,
that fear and sorrow in her eyes?
She didn't deserve to feel such unimaginable pain."
"My child," the angel said,
"even I don't have all the answers to these questions.
What I can tell you is that her suffering was not in vain.
She held on for you,
and she saw a strength in you that brought her peace even before death.
So wipe your eyes, my child.
These questions are not to be known until we are sitting here together for a different reason.
Go now, my child.
Live, so her memory can live on within your heart and memories."
Copyright © Sara Jama | Year Posted 2025
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