Angelic
Outside the open window, The morning air is all awash with angels. Richard Wilbur
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In a lush garden—bathed in halcyon light,
Where opulent blooms imbue the night,
An ethereal glamour—a dulcet spell
Unveiling secrets no tongue can tell
From heaven’s realm—angelic choirs
Descend with grace; their voices inspire.
Their reverential hymns ripple through the air.
A pure melody—beyond compare
Devout and innocent, their presence sublime,
Their angelic might shape the course of time.
Few people realize the power they possess.
Guiding us through—life's intricate mess
Music, they say, is the speech of angels.
A divine elixir that our souls entangle.
With each note, they weave a tapestry of love.
Filling our hearts with blessings from above.
Protecting angels of life, unseen yet near,
Watch over us with a love so clear.
Though they may fly high beyond our sight,
Their eyes are always upon us, shining bright.
In their leisure, they glimpse what we do.
With pure and sincere devotion, they sue.
They view our struggles, joys, and fears.
And offer comfort to wipe away our tears.
To love for the sake of being loved is human.
However, sincere love is divine, not an illusion.
Their devotion is unrestricted and boundless.
Graceful momentum—spatially senseless
So let us embrace the angelic symphony.
And let its harmonies set us free.
In their songs, we find solace and peace.
A glimpse of heaven's grace that will never cease.
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