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Old 09-13-2013, 06:58 PM
FrankFromCanada's Avatar
FrankFromCanada FrankFromCanada is offline
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 277
Default Poem-It Is The Day Of Angels Waiting


It is the day of the angels waiting for you to come home.

Home is where the angel is when we are not there,

but here instead.

Listening is the voice of an angel speaking

to you.

Speaking is interrupting their silence. Your silence.

Angels turn the page for us

when we are too weak

to read without

the page turning.

Parrots are angels of colour

lighting our heartís



there was only darkness


Rainbows are angels dancing airwaves

into sky. Birds sounding like birds

are really rabbit shopping lazily

through space and time becoming


That is why rabbits hop. They become

birds in the hop,

in the space, where you donít

see them.

Between the hop, the jumping and the landing,

Angels live.

You donít see them jump

or in the in-between

or in their landing.

But you feel them as they fly by,

hopping jumping flying,

in that gust of wind

they make, landing hopping jumping or

taking off

where hurricanes sometimes become themselves

ignoring what they were but really were not,

and become their own

rainbows of colour

dancing on heavenís walls we call sky.

Angels walk when we donít fly,

and fly whether we are with them

or not. Because they are with us.

Angels are birds practicing wings in flight,

looking like birds dancing the space where

raindrops disappear then reappear. Angels

move this way. Deep inside.

Deep inside.

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