Hush, can you hear the angels’ wings
in the breath of the air
mid the rain?
Quiet now, listen,
between drops as they fall,
a faint beat at my window pane.
A rustle, some drips,
a glimpse of wing white,
a stilled breeze through the shutters ajar,
they’ve paused for a moment,
my heart to explore
before journeying onwards afar.
Shush, I can hear them,
they’ve halted too long,
this never has happened before.
I feel in their minds, weighing me up
but yet more.
Searching my soul,
from the sills where they stand,
outside in the palest moonlight,
reading me well,
a gift in the small hours of lost night.
Flutters I heard
as the peace came upon,
a stirring of feathers and gone,
their misson to mingle,
leave a token of white,
to all lonely, before moving on.