[Authoress' Note: As humans, we have a pathetic idea that origins always define the outcome, that nothing good may come from evil parents or vice versa; not so, says the brat of Delaunay. I creed that one must judge a person as he is, regardless of who sired him. No cursing children for their parents' forsaken legacy; I previously wrote a novel by that title, "Forsaken Legacy," but have since discarded it. Anyway, another old poem, more masterfully written; I secretly love this one.]

Angels of heaven and angels of hell

Where to you think that this one would dwell?

Had this angel not fallen, where would he be?

This angel, enigma, this child lost as the sea?

Crown of rainbow feathers and gilded bright hair

What of this angel who waits by my stair?

Savoir or tempter-what is his claim?

A child of sunshine or child of rain?

This angel, so perfectly seeming at glance

Could this fair creature have gone so askance?

Is this work of Allah or Satan or man?

Is this angel of Gaia or God and His plan?

Is it of Buddha or Majuumi or Caine?

Is it of Demeter or of human plane?

Is it of Osiris or Set or of Baal?

Could this angel be mortal, after all?

Is it so important whom he is from?

Does his heart not beat in his breast, steady drum?

Does he not breathe our air and see as we do?

Does he not know the sky's wondrous blue?

Does he not have mind of knowing and love?

Then why must we know: below or above?

Why do humans so readily judge what they see

Instead of knowing it's there and enjoying its glee?

With his sapphire eyes he watches me now

A the small furrow vanishes, once on his brow

I accept him; I love him, that's all he need know

Now off into adventure may we two go

['s that. Me gusta the rhyme.]