Seal all your keys, techniques, toys, ploys, observations, full moon landing, to one angel.
Say outload.
“I did not do it, Archangel Gabriel did”
I am the abbot of this town, a little respect, and all are invited.
No con-artists.
If you visit, be respectable, and we can find a new guardian angel.
I do not do much, but you need to know what mission you want.
Is it protection, love, health, music, work, the arts, something of deviation, we can tailor wings.
Please do not leave the monastery, of the town borders, until we do a full excavation. A little nod, and it’s done. A monk on the run, or a nun with two sleeves and a gun.
If you want to explore more, that is fine, abide by the rules. A touch of Gabriel and no expectations, and patience, is fine.
The town must preserved in dignity and respect, not a tailored foot, with a trolley, sniff and a fly-by cart. Leave the wings to the tailors that know best.
It is hard work, but it is twice shy. Miracles happen, and hope can be a bounty, or a mistress of despair in a lair.
Just find peace, where you are at, and acceptance. Often the rough side of where we are at, can be a struggle, and a b ridge, two flows of guidance, I do know well too.