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They lean back on their heavenly chairs with eternal smiles on their faces In earnest, too, for the encapsulating beauty of the other world has swallowed them up As a beast it's prey Neither do they know the suffering or pride or jealousy or rage Nor any other negative feeling on earth Perhaps they are happier than the pitiful souls who occasionally show themselves in our light Or are concealed behind an everlasting wall of ignorance Perhaps they have never really felt anything, for fear of being hurt, or in pride of what they have, or in anger of the fact that they cannot have But in these ways, thye have felt these things Which makes the purest angels no less human than ourselves And the most horrible human no less pure than an angel |
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