The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Wings of an angel



I hear them flutter with a tranquil calm
In the darkest nights of my sleepy realm

Waking to glimpse what is next to my bed
Only blackness of night surrounds my head

Feeling in harmony I do not feel any fears
Overwhelming emotions flows in my tears

Hearing wings of an angel, it watches me weep
Like an owl of the night it tenders my sleep

Upholding my soul this knight of my life
From birth till the end in joy and in strife

Invisible and quiet coexisting while I live
Guidance and protection they always give

In my moments of need and the hours of sorrow
I see their silhouettes through a vision I borrow

Hearing also these whispers from omni directions
I value their guidance and astonishing protections

Thank you to my angels for whose wings I see
For kindness, wellbeing and above all loving me

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