Oh Angel, Lift me, Remove me from my body, And lighten my load. Burn my thoughts away, I do not have much use for them, Let me feel a light joy, And no heavy sadness. “No,” said the Angel, “You would get altitude sickness, If you were to come up here.” “You must stay on the ground, Like everyone else, You must carry your load.”
I hope everyone is doing well through this difficult time. I know that this third lockdown has been really rough. I have always found January a miserable month, this year has definitely been the hardest. This poem had a strange conception. I was thinking about religious figures. How those they consider pious are are achieving something higher than themselves, while those who have supposedly sinned are “fallen”. I realised that in the real world there is only so high you can go without losing touch with everything and getting altitude sickness. I realised that if we don’t rise, if we just stay on the ground then we cannot possibly fall. I know that must sound so strange. One night I was really upset about everything. I remember just wanting to float and feel light. I suppose the angel represents the rational part of my brain that reminded me of that idea of staying on the ground. I am trying to make myself busy and trying to make things easy, but when things are difficult, I must remind myself to stay on the ground.