The warmth of the blankets my soul could not keep
So rising I pondered with wisdom and light:
Why should I rise up when all seems like night?
The silence was beckoning and calling my name
The surroundings were familiar but no longer the same
Whispering with the rhythm of the circular clock
The angels were gathering and engaging in talk
There must have been motive and reasoning for this:
Pulling me from slumber to ponder such bliss:
Something so spectacular and glowing with light:
A host of many angels were invading my night
Words were not spoken with soundings I know
But rather were rhythmic and in a coded flow
Sparkling with the essence of all who are Divine
I now hold their messages in this poor heart of mine.