Farida Haque
2 min readJan 10, 2023

Raise Up Your Angels, Lord

~ and us mortals too ~

Digital water color adobe images artist unknown

Wounded air

blood of my heart

wept for a kiss and I

fell at your feet.

I fell at your feet, Lord.

Quintessentially heartless,

you the promised lover

of Rumi and Hafez,

know nothing of love

even less of desire.

Lord, see us.

Fallen angels,

undone by your whim

for looking askance,

shed a tear or two

in camaraderie

Raise them up, Lord

your celestial singers

robbed of rhapsodies

vanish even as we

humans inherit cindered worlds,

green and gold torn asunder.

Tears fall on open mouths

of abyss and forgotten seas

our hymns stay imprisoned

by a cruel mesh of

prayers turned to metals

Your worshippers need feeding, Lord

empty covenants seduce no longer.

Lord, feed us.

Why are we all sad?

We want to make the impossible

possible knowing in our viscera

it cannot be.

So we fall and fall again,

like your angels with scattered wings, Lord

and a dirge sighs our way…

It can only be angels harmonizing,

notes a tentative sepia

but a cordon nevertheless

that draws us together

angels and mortals.

The fall —

that much we have in common.

What hope can there be for us mortals

when heavens watch unmoved

as angels in holy agony

cast pleas to emptiness?

Lord, feel us.

We gather our futility of tears.

Angels pluck around for torn feathers.

That much we have in common.

United by a fall from Grace.

Farida Haque

Farida Haque

Multimedia artist, writer, poet. ‘Celebrating other lives, I am a sparrow in the shadow of a rosebush...’ faridahaque@gmail.com