Wingless Angel

They were soft whispers her prayers but loud enough that God could hear. King James Bible opened in one hand a lit candle in the other and the sound of urgency affixed to her lips in a flow of rhythmic cadence she recited the psalms as her faith soared to reach its mark—God’s ears. The pain of labor never her experience but her opened heart was full of maternal love. She was my ‘wingless angel’ now ethereally winged assisting the God she loved. Her faith she passed on by showing the way through gentleness and unvoiced guidance radiance and wisdom that example I’ve become. I sometimes imagine a familiar whisper echoed in a warm breeze and I wonder is that you, my angel… do you still pray for me?