And now here comes Michael walking
Part I: Sending his brother away
Michael stands and shoe shines his things
                     with the underside of his
feathers.
They’re a sight these handsome wings,
              
will withstand all inclement weathers.
That’s a good thing for on the eve
                                 he’ll fly out leading battle.
And the last thing he needs to grieve
                                 is for them to give a rattle.
                                  You know.
Getting dressed is a production.
                         Got that sword of his that fires
into ribbons of destruction,
                
Sends you down into the quagmires.
                                 Oh –oh.
Chain mail of his is somethin’ swell,
                      made of things weird and unman.
You gotta’ get used to the smell
                                 but I’d avoid it if you can.
                                Whoah –oh .
Because He who is as the Lord
                
forgets at times to sponge on down.
But who needs it when he can afford
                              a thousand stainless gowns? 
For if angels could be vain
                     Mike would be our leading man
affectation for being unstained
                        He would be his own best fan.
                                 You know.  That’s right.
But that’s why he feels so bland
                               Immortal and without sin
Virtues he doesn’t understand 
                     having angels and saints for kin
Enters Gabs just in from riding
                  
Dragons, with a smile on his face.
Gabs: the bearer of good tidings--
                 
Mike puts high ones in their place.
Chief prince reads the sky blue pages
           
Longing lumps of pain for his brother
Whom he hasn’t seen for ages
                           Cause he belongs to another. 
              
                            It’s
so-o.
Speck turns to dense crimson flaring
                
buzzes along heaven’s lines above.
Come the hosts of Lucifer blaring
                       Mike feels a queer mix of love.
Was there anyone so gently strong
                             as Lucifer his
beloved light?
Since Luz was the one to know wrong
                   
was the only who too knew right.
So began the battle of Hosts
                       heavenly, deadly, and sanguine.
It left many if not most, 
                  
letting out a gruesome whine.
                                                 Oh. oh. 
First lamb is cast from the fold 
               
looks like this’s Mike’s new day job
clasps Lucifer’s hand but he can’t hold
                  
               lets him go with
lurid sob.
                                    Oh-oh.
Lucifer falls and yet leaves warning: 
                                 he’s not really all that far;
Look to Venus in the morning
                             you see his light-giving star.
Part II: Casting out of the Garden of Eden, Wishing
he could go too 
Uh, oh. 
Here’s Mike to rip asunder.
                  
Eden’s ending with his coming.
In the distance, hear the thunder
           
and a complacent kind of humming.
He steps lightly, feathers taut
               
senses alert like a wide-eyed bug
going into an invisible knot
         
sees nothing--continues with a shrug.
There they wait with bags that match
   ‘tween
the two trees that let them know:
There are things beyond their green patch
             
that their paradise would not show.
                                         You know.
He looks clinically at
the two that stand
                
but one a bit more than the other
then peers at the lines of the man
                
places his hand upon his brother
                                 
You know.
The man’s look comes from seeing things
                          that he wasn’t meant to see.
Alas, now does those things that bring
                       blights of that accursed tree.
                                            Oh – oh.
Cause it’s easier to blame the fruit
                        or even the serpent’s tongue
frankly all of it is moot
                      the promises his woman sung
                                            Oh – oh-oh. . .
At last, grudging Mike must glance
               
at the female looking beyond.
It seems she prefers her chance
                   
and looks forward to the dawn.
Behind them Mike’s toy licks up hail
                   
it’s really just for showing off. 
He really likes to wow the females
                        with his aching sword aloft.
                                             You know.
At the edge, Mike rests his arm
                       and stands just to the inside.
She turns and he sees with alarm
                      the gleaming eyes of a bride
                                 Oh-oh, Satan and Man.
Mike didn’t know but he would face
                         those gleaming eyes again.
Inscrutable in time or place
                     When he’d be ready to begin.
But for now Mike returns alone
                        to quiet houses of the holy.
Where only the mighty like he are prone
            
to stare out longingly at the lowly.
                                          Oh – oh – oh.
The lowly were a-walking
      
Dragging feet and stepping toes, then
One says a prayer and hand crossing 
                       the other just says an amen.
                                 Oh-oh, Man and Satan.
Part III: 
And now here comes Michael walking. 
          
And now here comes Michael walking.
going bluely through one of those phases
                       when all archangels go stalking
       It’s
just not one of his days-es.
                                          You know.
              
Wings are weary and sword is gaunt
from hacking demons ‘n bad things
                      feather in his cap’s lost its jaunt
as the drooping of his wings.
               
He steps slowly, not quite sideways
Looking as only an angel could
                   
almost wishing he could not stay
  near
envying those that would.
          not qui-i-te.
                               Already he’s been sighted,
               
and it’s far too late to turn
      
‘cause that’s exactly when he can't fight it 
At least that is what he’s learned
                                       You
know.
                     He braces while she lightly skips
Wary, watches her burning eyes
                        and smacks at her dripping lips
      
Darkens his eyes in disguise
                         She offers a few words of Eve
  of gently
swaying limbs
                            that Mike just had to believe
of wanton, calling whims 
                                       whoah-oh.
Mike’s heard her truths are token 
     and has
yet to enjoy one
                     but wonders if something broken
is better than new and none.
                          Pale curls are salon fatigued
Showing signs of shivering stress
                      waving over his eyes intrigued.
         
Will he settle more for less?
                                       Who
knows.
                      As Mike droops down to listen
She leans forward in a way
                       that makes Mike’s eyes misten 
          to
know happiness for a day.
                                       Oh-oh-oh.
                      He looks up into the milky way
     speaks
a condition of return
                  
She looks down in thwarted delay
then up, for she too has learned
          you know
                      her eyes skip a beat of planning
         and
imagines out tomorrow
                     for if Mike today is still standing
sometime for sure he’ll meet his sorrow.
                                       he
knows
                           yet she plans to take her foe
for if Mike’s to walk in hand
                  
with sword blazing, he will know
    that one
day he was a man.
          Oh-oh-oh.
To be Continued...
 
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