Another Angel
Beneath a comfortless, cold moon,
a rose was pluck too soon -
Perhaps it’s not so:
for he is now living,
and we are dying…
God only collected another Angel.
Still, I wept as I had never wept,
stripped bare of hope and everything.
Within me an ever-louder wind -
a pain that throbs with an un-keen sting.
I looked up at the heaven’s mysterious face,
with all my soul within me burning:
“Dear heart, be still a moment!
God had only lent him to the world.”
Copyright © Juanita Oosthuizen | Year Posted 2018
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