Like moonlight sliding across a raked Zen garden, Miguelangel interlaces two ancient strands—Miguel, the Spanish form of Michael that asks the timeless question “Who is like God?,” and Ángel, the very word for the celestial messenger—so that its single, fluid breath of sound, mee-gehl-AHN-hel, glints with both steel and feather; born of Iberian devotion yet echoing faintly of the Renaissance master Michelangelo, the name carries murals of cathedral ceilings, stadium roars from Latin-American fútbol fields, and soft lullabies murmured in bilingual homes, while in the United States it has drifted steadily through the lower ranks of the popularity charts, poised between 600 and 900, much like a heron standing patient at the edge of a mist-laden koi pond—never clamorous, never obscure, simply present for parents who seek a cool fusion of strength and grace, tradition and quiet modernity, sky and stone.