Songs of Angels

Do angels, those exchequers of heaven’s golden shores, have hearts or humor as they focus on us with their greedy, eternal attention? They must be well-acquainted with vice and the offending elements of our ingrained, mortal weaknesses. I’ve read those frampold canaries - at man’s creation - coveted the gift of choice, cruelly denied them - freedoms that can corrupt the weak and too human. How do those singers of exquisite songs still find worthy peers to invite home unless they pity, forgive or grant endless sufferance which must, at least in practice, resemble love.