Postcards from an Angel

or (the last unicorn)

 

In that moment before I wake.

As my dreams begin to dissipate.

I wait, for postcards from an Angel.

 

Attached to the remnants,

of a fantasy long forgotten,

is the scribbled confession

of a cherub from heaven.

 

Written in Angelic script,

is the chorus of the unborn -

visible only through the tears

of the last unicorn.

 

Numbered in the many

they reveal an epic story

of Eden in all its glory

and the plight of Angel flight.

 

Buried by the ignorance of Job,

is the final hymn

of the last child of Atlantis:

a broken faith of dying men.

 

In that moment before the sun wakes,

& the cry of the last unicorn dissipates.

I wait, for postcards from an Angel.