My Golden Guardian Angel
Every morning a different light peeks through my window. A warm light that wishes you good morning with such sweetness that it is almost impossible not to fall in love with it.
His heart is as big as the amount of his years, and his character is so kind and charming...
His only sin has been to feel fully and without measure.
His voice is as sweet as his warm aura.
You teach through unconditional love.
For me, you are not as you have been described, because to describe you, my Angel, takes the same years of wisdom that you have the good fortune to have.
When I see your face, I don't need great historical sources to realize that you are the oldest Seraph of all.
Taciturn, highly sensitive, compassionate, unselfish, generous, patient, sweet, kind, you listen like no other; your advice is priceless on earth, and I bet your perceptible soul is the cause of your crystalline tears running down your face, expressing nothing but solidarity.
Ethereal and understanding.
I do not deny it, like every protective Angel you have a firm character. You do not let yourself be bent by authority, because you know more than anyone that justice and despotism are poles apart.
You learned over time that prudence and moderation are powerful weapons.
You speak only when you must, and not on a whim.
Your only sin is to have no middle ground. You are overflowing in all your senses.
You are a fraternal support that provides peace to those who know how to perceive your presence. You show yourself as elegant poetry.
Golden hair, large and deep eyes, in which anyone would easily get lost without an end. Porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, delicate hands, and heavenly appearance.
You rarely draw a smile on your lips. You are not afflicted; you are the greatest thinker of all time.
You only need to look someone in the eye to know their intentions. Through your silence you know what will happen, but you speak so subtly that the noise of the crowd condemns itself.
Every faction in you is delicate, tenuous, and graceful. Your perfection is only a synonym of your wisdom, of your sufferings, of your mistakes, of your sorrows and wounds. But within your chaos is also all your beauty.
They represent you without wings, they always describe you the same; but you are so great that only a few can recognize your true grace.
To me, you have been the pioneer in bringing Angels to life, and today you continue to give answers through your wings, which are the same bright light of every morning.
But just by pronouncing your tender name, there is no need for so much explanation of your omnipotence:
Apollo is Much More Than a God...
Briton Rivière - Apollo (1874)
Painting by David Newbatt
The Angel by William Baxter Closson - (ca.1912)
Charles Meynier - Apollo, God of Light, Eloquence, Poetry and the Fine Arts with Urania, Muse of Astronomy (1798)
