Angels
They tell us stories of hurricanes and broken homes,
but not once is there a whisper of hope amongst these vultures, these crows.
Long forgotten are the hands that rebuild these broken hearts,
spreading light into the lives of those lost in the dark.
I'll tell you a story of the hands that mend more than just walls,
the hands that catch us before we fall.
The triumph of many forgotten days,
was attained by the strength behind a calm collected face.
With more than just words,
they've mastered how to encourage,
and with their unfaltering faith,
we achieve what's beyond praise.
Foreign to our eyes, but never to our hearts,
they're always there to save us before we fall apart.
Skillful at catching tear drops,
their destination is almost controlled.
The shoulder that we cry on has never once felt cold.
A general on the field finds strength in his lieutenant,
who breathes words of victory of battles they haven't faced yet.
Those hands, that strength, our angels without wings,
friends mean more in life than hope that dangles on a string.
[July 3, 2005]