Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. (Genesis 32:23-25)
Said he, "Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human and you have prevailed." Jacob asked, "Pray tell me your name." But he said "You must not ask my name!" And he took leave of him there. So Jacob named the place Peniel, meaning "I have seen a divine being face to face, yet my life has been preserved." (Genesis 32:29-31)
It was a moonless night. The sky was strewn with stars. I built myself a small fire. It cast a tiny flickering pool of light around me that quickly vanished in the darkness.
I didn't see him; nor did I hear him approach. Suddenly he was standing across the fire from me, hands on his hips, looking down at me as I sat on the hard dry earth. The wood was crackling. The air was cold. His face was dark and expressionless, but he was staring at me as if he knew me.
"Peace be to you," I said to him. He said nothing back, just stepped closer. It was only then that I saw his wings. They were vast, like the fringed shawl of the holy one, dark, dark as his skin, dark as the night that births new mornings. He opened them wide and stepped over the fire. I stood, my legs shaking.
My heart was beating furiously. I was sure that he could hear it in the silence. I wanted to run but I was frozen in that spot. He stepped close, reached out and placed his hands on my shoulders. And he looked down into my eyes as if they were two wells empty of water, till his gaze had penetrated to my very heart, filling it to overflowing. Then he opened his wings, further than I would have thought possible, and wrapped then around me, pulling me closer. And he wrapped his arms around my back, so that my chest was pressed flat against his chest. And I felt myself vanishing in his embrace, like a stream that washes into a river, as we stood chest to chest, belly to belly, thigh to thigh.
He leaned down and kissed me. I opened my lips to him. And so it was, all night, that the two of us grappled on the ground, a man and an angel, his wings and his arms wrapped around me. We battled and made love till the sky began to lighten, when he pressed me to the earth and entered me. Wrenched apart and then pushed into bliss, he filled me with light. Then, bathed in the waters of my flesh, we curled together by the remains of the fire, breathing softly together.
I asked him his name. He would not tell me. I asked him for a blessing. He said, with a grin, "Wasn't this blessing enough for you?" I looked away, ashamed, for he was right. But he lifted my chin with his hands, smiling. Then he kissed me again. I stroked his back, feeling the way that his wings grew out of it. I caressed his face, looked him deep in those dark dark eyes again. Then my arms were empty and he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared. And I was alone again.
