The Phalanx

When you come north to the Oregon beach to rebuild,

you will be guarded by a phalanx of Seraphim

and one Archangel, Michael I  think.

There will be trumpets and drums to announce your coming.

No police escort would be as good as these guys.

No one can protect and defend like the Seraphim,

They have six wings: two to fly with, two to cover their faces and two to cover their feet.

They are mighty and terrible, full of flame and  love’

Just right for your entourage.  Everyone will weep and gnash their teeth

As you and your heavenly host pass by (you’ll be on the evening news.)

Consternation everywhere.  “Why does she get such great guardians?”, they will say. 

“Who is she?”, they will ask.  “What does she carry in the box?”, they wonder.

“It is her heart”, I  say, “broken into pieces.  She’s bringing it to the sea to heal and grow strong again.”

“But WHO is she?”, they ask.

“A girl in love and full of despair. “

“Ohhh”, they say. “We will add our voices to her healing prayer.”

“Thank you”, I say, “and pray for the one who is gone.”

Love abounds.

– Small Town Boy


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