Ten years ago, I wrote a poem in the middle of the night. It's been one of my favorites ever since.
The Little Angel Sings
From dark to light the Voice speaks life,
And worlds and souls take wing.
From heav'n the guardians look down;
A little angel sings.
From light to dark men's hearts soon turn,
A selfish path they keep.
And as he sees their fall begin,
The little angel weeps.
Years upon years, with sorrow vast,
What evil mortals sow.
But of the love that waits for them
The little angel knows. ...continue reading