-			The Angel of Destinies
						by R. Wesley Edwards

My name is Exétafus…
	I am not a guardian angel-
		I am the Destiny Angel.
I can change your fate
	    Through intervention
	or with a simple gesture
		    or expression.
	Not always for the better
		Not always all that…
			   different
			…from what
				it was
			        …before
But…  I try-
	I try to help
		the meek
			inherit the Earth
Perhaps, by shaking
		the tree,
	I can amuse
		the squirrels
	or frighten
		the foxes
	but sometimes
       the tree shakes me.
The difference
	between
		living to crow
			at the sunrise
  and becoming breakfast
	-is whether I plucked
		your egg
			from your mother's
					nest
Maybe… just maybe…
You'll be one of
	the next generation
		of egg producers…
A soul in a shell…
	a precious soul
		in a fragile shell.
Or perhaps it is
	yours,
		to vandalize a
			bus
		or a Junior High
			teacher's
				house…
					or car..
Humans like to think
	it's more
		complex
	for them
		than these eggs
But is it really
	all that different?
What really matters-
	the cracking
		 of the egg,
		or who cracks
			it?
Which is more important,
	hatching yourself
		and walking
			into a freedom
				of horizon,
	  or being tapped
		against a stove
	   and emptied
		into a frying pan?
In the long run
	it may not
		matter to you
	  what becomes
		of Cluckie's eggs;
	but do you think
	  your destiny
		matters to
	the average bobcat…
I don't think ants
	waste too much
	  thought on
		you either,
			for that matter.
So a person has to
	choose…
…assuming “choice” is an
	applicable word
		for persons.
Choice…
	Freedom,
		or an Ironic Joke?
You can disagree
	with this
		aged
	  Destiny Angel,
	but you may
		find it difficult
		  to argue
			how much
		      choice a person
		_Really_ has.
Wait, and watch them take
	the paths of least
		resistance
Wait, and hear tales
	of people doing
		what they can
			get away with
			  but nothing
				more
		   and nothing less…
Wait.  Wait right there,
	if you can hear
		the songs of birds
			whose eggs did
			         hatch-
	  Perhaps it is an omen
	…but if all you hear
		is the frying of the pan-
it doesn't mean
	it isn't still an omen
It may be very difficult
	to escape
	 the destiny of
		all the creatures
		   that aren't rooted-
     an eventual slow-down
	and an eventual death.
“But we have…
	consciousness!”
	  …you scream-
“But what of our
	   Souls,
		our beautiful
			souls!?”
	…did you make it
all up-
	did your kind
		make it all
		  up?
To comfort the very
		young
		     and the very old
	the sick and the dying…?
This act of generosity
		may have already
			backfired
		 on your species-
Large groups of humans
	  hunting other
		humans
	or collecting
		…“converts”…
People collecting other people…
	Pardon my ironic smile…
But your God wouldn't,
	or would,
  want you to kill each-other
	in His name?
Excuse me, my blasphemy:
	I've had a good deal
			of time
		to consider…
			and reconsider
	the mythologies
			  of your people…
Why can't you see how
	      you are controlled
	by the hypocrites
	     the over-zealous?
Do you need direction
		so bad
	that you'll surrender
		your body,
			your life…
		 your identity
		  …your Destiny…
		     to another?
I thought I was kidding
	when I told my friend
		I'd devise a heist
		  so I could spend
	some time in jail-
	  other people in control
	…others telling me where
		to go and when
	to get there…
		I wouldn't have
			to plan for the
				  future-
				I'd have my room
				  and board
					taken care of…
like being a child again…
	  Is that how
		you see yourself?
	A child… -a child who
		 can't adequately
		care for itself?
Maybe-
	  as strong a statement
		as this is-
	maybe it isn't
		Strong enough:
  Perhaps your people
	would prefer to be
		…pets.
	  Then the Golden Rule
		wouldn't have to
			be enough
	And you'd have to be
		  reminded
		    again and again
		  about how exactly
			not to harm others
		and you could afford
		     a kind of
		   hypocritical righteousness
			in reminding others.
  But being good- Being “Good”-
is more than
	memorizing
		Commandments
	(or at least knowing where
			to look…)
How often have
	you ignored
		the needs of
	the less fortunate,
		the weak-
		your own children?
Wake up!
	Wake up!
		You are responcible,
			for yourself,
		for your mess
			for your planet…

   When things
	   don't fit;
	it makes me sad.

I can only shake
	the tree
		so hard
			before
			  the fate
			    of the robin's
				  eggs
				comes into question-
Or Mother Robin
	begins to set up
		her nest in
		  another tree.
    Shaken by the wind,
	perhaps,
  but safe…
	from
  the Angel
	of Destinies…