April/May 2005

Silent Angel
Kristine Ong Muslim

He was walking towards the moon
Away from us.
The darkness around him
Seemed to contract
To take him in.

We watched him shove our nightmares
Into the blackest interstices of our worn souls.
We wept every time the sound of his familiar footfalls
Ended before our closed doors.
He gave us our eyes—
Blind as they were beautiful
And we devoured all the visions he asked us
To sheathe our sights with.
He said he still had miles and miles to go
Even after we all had died
And he would always remember us.
We waited each night,
Cold and huddled in our beds,
Knowing that he would never fail to come
For it was only him who knew what shape
Our destinies would take.

"One day," he told us when we were still young
"I will haunt you
And you will understand."

Then he moved on
Bleak and beautiful as ever