The Guardian Angel
It's true, it isn't a story;
there is a Guardian Angel
who takes you and carries you like the wind
and goes with children wherever children go.
He has soft hair
that blows in the wind.
He has grave sweet eyes
that quiet you with a look
and destroy your fears with their brightness.
(It isn't a story, it's true).
He has a body, hands and winged feet,
six wings that soar and glide,
six wings that carry you through wingthrashed air
though you may sleep.
He makes the ripe fruit sweeter
that streams from your honeyed lips;
he cracks the nut from its crafty shell
and sets you free from gnomes and witches.
It is he who helps you cut roses
that sit in a snare of thorns,
and carries you over treacherous waters
and lifts you up the steepest crag.