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I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write” I had been going through a personal plight, I ventured off into a place, Where all I saw was love and grace, The season was the beginning of spring, When life can be heard, and the air starts to sing, But the place I was in was an endless row of rest, Yet I was able to admire how well it was dressed, Glory symbols stationed all around, One stood tall far off the ground, Wings wide- ranging, angelic that gleamed, Surrounded by flowers whose colors were sheen, Blues of the ocean, reds of the evening sky, I reflected on greatness, as the time passed by, I came upon a sculpture, a cherub, with a face, A tear in his right eye, looking down at this place, A letter to God leaned against this particular one, It read clearly on top, “Please Lord, hold my son” I continued on, walking down this strip, When suddenly, I slipped and had a hard trip, I fell by a giant weeping willow tree, Then looked up at the fixture right in front of me, Out of all the others, this monument was painted the best, Its beauty surpassed all of the rest, I marveled at his golden strands, His skin looked like the color of sand, Looking up from off the ground, It looked as though he wore a crown, His creamy gown was long and still, My eyes felt like they had started to spill, His mere presence seemed to fill me with humility, My legs were limp, I felt a lack of mobility, What was this kind, who had made him? Then, he spoke “You were never forsaken” Chills overwhelmed my body quite fast, I had no idea, I was his task, I said, "what is your name," And He gently sighed, “Your never alone, just enjoy your life’s ride” I had been in a struggle, for quite some time, He spoke once more, “You will be Fine” His glimmering light calmed my inner plight, His afterglow, made my heart know, That sometimes in life we go through a trial, And even when it seems like it’s lasted awhile, God sends his messengers right on time, He is never late, and His words are like wind chimes, Soothing the mountains, calming the inner storms, Restoring us back to our proper forms, I looked up once more, but He had disappeared, My faith had grown deeper, and I knew God was near, I rested a while, under that old willow tree, I felt compelled to write what had happened to me, It was now the early part of night, I began with, "I heard an angel speak last night and he said to write.” By: Sabina keough 6/11/11
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