Hark! The Harold Angel Sings!
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She told me that you heard the angels singing. She said they were caroling for the events that beheld the end of the year. Their voices were healing, praising, and refreshing to a weary soul like hers.
A world of loss she would be in, she said, if she could no longer hear those voices. Her heart belongs in the clouds that is their stage. Her eyes see only their beautiful wings. This world was her gift.
She spoke with the angels on my dismay. Cancerous cells flood my body and blacken my soul, but she says there’s hope. There’s hope in an angel’s voice.
She leads me out into the chill of the night, millions of stars surround us, everything frozen in the town. She whispers for me to close my eyes, and to listen. I hear nothing but the wind at first, but then her hand closes around mine and I hear something else in the night.
It’s quiet, but grows louder with each passing second. A choir of angels flow through my ears.
A world of loss she would be in, she said, if she could no longer hear those voices. Her heart belongs in the clouds that is their stage. Her eyes see only their beautiful wings. This world was her gift.
She spoke with the angels on my dismay. Cancerous cells flood my body and blacken my soul, but she says there’s hope. There’s hope in an angel’s voice.
She leads me out into the chill of the night, millions of stars surround us, everything frozen in the town. She whispers for me to close my eyes, and to listen. I hear nothing but the wind at first, but then her hand closes around mine and I hear something else in the night.
It’s quiet, but grows louder with each passing second. A choir of angels flow through my ears.