Angels Fly Above The Clouds

I am high above the clouds,
This airplane a force of science,
But maybe angels are also above the clouds,
Always quiet with their presence,
Never obvious or loud,
Ordinary lives changing with their help,
And not just on airplanes,
Flying the globe as they do.

God has place in this,
For he sends angels to help all,
People sitting on an airplane,
That never does fall,
As impossible as angels falling from clouds,
For the angels sleep on these clouds,
Their heavenly white light,
Guiding those through the darkness,
And the wings of feathers beating without a sound,
For silence can be found,
As you search deep inside,
Where sometimes we have to let go,
Of our foolish pride.

People pray to the angels above,
Whether in a church, in bed,
Or in a hospital,
For angels heal the sick,
With their soothing, healing touch,
That never does burn,
As would the devil's touch,
For pain becomes peace,
No soul turning back the hands of time.

When God sends his angels,
They sing "Glory to God",
They read poetry with joy,
And protect the world,
Making it a safe place,
For every woman, man, girl and boy,
Because this world is paradise,
For heaven really is a place on earth,
Angels fluttering down,
For feathers heal a broken heart,
The clouds in a blue, blue sky,
Where angels lay in peace,
Smiling at those faces in airplane windows,
Knowing that love is above the clouds.

by Paula Glynn

Comments (2)

I know ur gonna hate me this, but spelling is a major point of writing poetry. No matter how enrapturing the poem, if you misspell a word (dieing should be dying) , their gonna focus on that error, instead of the beauty and truth of the poem. Other than that, excellent poem. Well formed, gorily detailed, and darkly intriguing to the utmost extent. congrats, keep writing; -)
Very Deep Tiyler.Almost like a vampires story. Patricia