My angel came to me
flawed and battered,
searching for answers
in all the wrong places.
Hair white as snow
She drew me to her
like a ski junkie to powder.
I was never satisfied with her
Yet she satisfied me completely,
An algorithm hard to explain.
The cosmos is beautiful,
All chaos,
It expands exponentially.
She was far from perfect;
only I could see that.
She had flown high
On wings now broken.
That’s how the Universe sent her to me,
Armed with humility, fragility and insanity,
The only way into my world,
My dull and lifeless planet.
The Universe prepared her for me,
Like Zopyrus in the fall of Babylon:
Mentally mutilated beyond belief,
the key to the city.
She let me into the world of academia,
Taught me the joys of pillage and plunder.
It’s what I needed,
The broken daddy,
The kayak hombre.
She killed me with her honesty,
Brought me back from the dead;
Nurtured a new me
And sent me off again.
Wings healed,
She flies low over the Earth,
more certain of her uncertainty,
Stronger but still frail,
at ease with her insanity,
Saving others to this day.
Now, too,
I am an angel,
Bringing relief and disillusionment.
My comfort brings joy
Which helps them to see
The world is not so perfect
As they thought it to be.
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