I wish sometimes that I could draw. I get pictures in my head that I want desperately to draw or paint.
Today’s: A forest by the sea. In it, in a sheltered clearing, an angel, her wings battered and stained and one possibly broken, gathered around her; her robes dirty and torn, an expression of equal parts sadness, pain, and love on her face. Looking closer, you can see that she is sheltering someone with her broken wings — two children, young and just past infant, both shining brightly and clinging to her while peeking out. It’s clear that she’s been protecting them.
Pulling back for a broader view, there is another figure lost in the trees, at the edge of the forest by the sea; apparently male, and you can see bulky armor on him through the mist. He seems to be standing guard, but is not approaching the figure; her head is turned to him, but bowed, looking down.
And another figure, closer by, in the clearing as well. Upon examination he appears to be demonic in nature. He’s close to the angel… but not threatening. Instead he’s perched on a rock quite close to her, watching over her and the children, as though he is also guarding and protecting. His expression is hard to read, but has elements of fear and hope mixed into the usual demonic traits.
It’s all in how you look at things, isn’t it?