Seraphim
LOVE POEM #2: The heavenly choir. Peacefully blessed. Simple desire in an infinite cosmos.
Intimately bound within
our memories, are seraphim.
They fly around me when you call,
rise from their roosts,
then swoop, ascend,
to hold us both in thrall.
Angels’ passion, wings of fire,
carry forth the heavens’ choir,
singing revelations known:
that we two sit on love’s soft throne.
Our heartbeats slow,
you breathe, you flow,
you gently blow
’til feathers fly
from the bowl of my tentative hands.
I AM NOT A RELIGIOUS person. I’m not buying into the idea of angels literally carrying a message from God. But I love the way they dance through classical art and illustrate the unknowable fantasia that’s at the heart of faith and love.
I see love as a strong parallel to faith: an unexplainable, illogical and scientifically absurd notion that nevertheless excites every neural pathway like a firework, exploding with a flare that fuses yearning and desire. Love and faith cast a celestial net that gathers our lives together and binds us. I’m sceptical of science-is-king commentators, such as Richard Dawkins, who dismiss any belief in God because it is not logical, cannot be confined within scientific reason. I completely get where he’s coming from and agree that organised religion is a farce, but at the same time… Richard! Has your mind never been twirled inside-out by love?
Angels are – in Christianity at least – a strangely amorphous gang of divine sprites. I expect that for most people, Gabriel is the main one, in the same way that Rudolf is the main reindeer and it’s a pub-quiz question to name the others. My favourite is Cupid. Not officially in the Premiership rank of the seraphim, he’s in the Champions League with the other cherubim. In art galleries I love to hunt around for the cheeky-faced little fatty.
I think Cupid’s very under-used in literature and film. His actions – mischievously pinging off arrows-of-love, with wild consequences – are so rich for development, his motivations are so complex. And Timothée’s still cherubic enough to nail the part.
You made it to the end! Enjoyed this post?
I love encouragement. A simple LIKE is so helpful. Sharing, Restacking or writing a Comment or Note is even better. My follower-count is “boutique” – I’ll notice you.
Feeling generous? Buy a coffee or even a sub and feel the glow of tribute – you’re a Patron Of The Arts!
Ego-boosts! Get your ego-boosts here!
One-off donors and paid subscribers can opt in to getting an Executive Producer credit right here on Undergrowth. Just like in the movies! Tubular!
Illustration: “Première Rêverie” (First Reverie), William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1889)
Richard! Has your mind never been twirled inside-out by love?
Not sure what Richard would say. Probably yes. And then babble on. But I can't help but like him a little. He will still lead the prayer on Xmas day.
I LOVE thinking of angels, the scary ones and the silly ones. I rather think they are like the BORG (star trek), thinking in one mind and doing HIS will. Maybe they are just exalted honeybees.
This hit me strong, Ian. Angels and Daemons, intentionally spelled like the spirit that moved Socrates. It feels fitting to associate angels with memories. Elusive. Changed every time they are touched. The notion that our movement is a dialogue between ourselves and larger forces at work. I like that. It makes me feel part of something important. Thanks for writing.