Through the window and next to me graciously landing a flawless white feather. Like on the morning of her funeral with the same strength forcing me to pause, calmly, needing no applause. Reassurance those armies he built are falling. Pirouettes in the breeze there all along even when I was crawling. Alas a resistance of a campaign of struggle spoken was the truth, verity, an end. Brings a platitude of power, like poems for a friend. I was close to death but those closer. A messenger of God even Michael much more than a carer. Remembering prayers of trust not tainted with why. Nazareth be nigh! High into the mystic I soar. Attend and hear observe and behold, digest the trumpets and wait for Gabriel, pronouncing durability into the unstable. I drop, arms stretched into the smoke that thunders, soaked in love I resurface with the skulls of kings. I have faith in the one He sent and I accept what this feather of paradise brings.