Leanna McClellan has been a member of the Portland, Oregon Subud group for 32 years. She lives with her husband, Morris, and Little Pearl, a gray cat and consummate princess. In addition to the many curiosities and fascinating oddities of life, she has two grown daughters who have been a rich source of material for her writing. In theory, she would like to write more, but finds it is only when something irresistible thwacks her in the head, that she is impelled to write it down.  And happily so

 

Man of Science Sees Angels

Walking the familiar path in the woods near his home,

the Professor’s mind was tripping through a tangle of theorems,

when, in the air, a few feet in front of his face,

suspended by nothing visible, he saw a group of five small angels.

Some might call them fairies as they were

so slight and captivating.

They didn’t seem to notice him and carried on

like teens at their first dance,

chattering, gently pushing and teasing one another.

 

A tingly summer chill shot through him.

He stood mesmerized, frozen in place.

They were as real to him as Bunsen burners

or his breakfast of soft boiled eggs an hour earlier.

 

Giddy joy encircled him in swirls of warming balm.

In that moment, his life of hard facts, scientific method

and concrete evidence poured from his brain,

rolled down his body, pooling at his feet

and promptly bubbled down into the dirt,

leaving only a slightly damp blur.

 

Now what?

Would he start embracing trees?

Or singing sea shanties to his colleagues at consortiums?

Would this keep him up at night as string theory once had?

Would his family take away the car keys?

 

One can only guess that he kept this encounter to himself,

not wanting to have to prove or defend what he had seen,

and continued his work in science with renewed gladness

in the knowledge that he might not be able to work through

all the uncertainties of the universe in a lab coat,

but would probably grin more than grimace while trying.