Cloud's Beneath Angels
Whistling harmonies descending,
drifting into the wind's echo.
The music chime's never ending,
as the time comes, then goes.
Above us images form into the skies,
hidden inbetween the clouds they soar.
Gently they begin to cry,
releasing the pain, feel it pour.
The gentle touch against my shoulder,
the blow of a breeze against my face.
We belong as one, walking together,
leaving footstep's not easy to trace.
Created cloud's develop by the Almighty,
etching into hope, belief that we may feel.
Witnesses may cry, or be really happy,
while they are given the blessing of cloud's beneath angels.
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