An Angel

we light a candle for the new morning

unknown and without faces

like an angel, sleeping in the forest

waiting for its lumberjack

I remembered these lines by Jan Skácel when reading Pavel’s new book. It contains much from his previous books – notably a deserted garden, a devil, the titular angel – yet there is something different about this work. It is about an angel, of course, but also how we and angels get along, and how our world needs them, though they themselves may doubt this. We are used to more cheerful books from Pavel Čech, albeit that each of them sounds some darker notes. These darker notes and this angel in flight (heading where?) always carry hope on wings. And, as Skácel writes so beautifully, these wings can appear quite unexpectedly. 

sometimes our angel feels anger

everyone has his own angel

and hope has wings of beech

and the heart is made of lime wood

(Radek Malý)

translation of Jan Skácel's verses: https://www.flickr.com/photos/poppycircle/1913343983