I Feel My Wings.

Every happy moment ends in sorrow - sorrow to see it pass, sorrow for the unexpected. It doesn't have to be that way, though. We can end each happy moment in joyful hopes for the next one. We can wait with a smile on our face. Isn't that the job of an angel? To bring joy and comfort to the world around them? How can an angel do that with a tear in her eye? So said, I swallow hard, and look from the ground to the sky. Rain falls on my face like the softest of kisses. My white dress falls across my skin as I rise from my knees and spread my wings. I feel the wind between my feathers, lifting me off the ground. The rain falls harder on and around me. I close my eyes and treasure the smell, the feel, the sound, the taste. I exhale heavily, a sigh from the soul, and open them again. I'm laying on my bed, the moon shining through my window, and I am alone. I smile, though, because I wait, joyously hopeful for the next time I feel my wings.