Out of the clouds, an angel appeared. He landed lightly by God’s side and embraced his still marble form. The angel settled his head on the Creator’s chest and smelled rain on fertile soil. Rain was not only God’s expression of joy, or anger, or sorrow, but what the angel smelled as he laid a cheek to His cool statuesque torso. God was the smell of rain.
“Do you see what I’ve brought, God? See what I’ve found?â? Michael withdrew his folded arms and pressed his gently closed palms into God’s side like an eager child, rustling the thick plumage of his white wings.
“Look, look, please, God, please look,â? Michael begged.
“Not yet, Michael, I’m busy. Hold on just a moment,â? God answered with a calm steady voice. He stared at a nonexistent point as he focused on something.
“It’s already been a moment, a thousand moments!â? Michael cried, “Every now and every when and will be and once was has passed already and will forever continue to pass! Your ‘moment’ is as agonizing as an eternity!â?
God sighed, “What is it?â?