Wouldn't you like to see an angel
or make one in the snow?
How would it feel to have a helper
with us, wherever we go?
Should we go on an angel hunt
and see what we can find?
Perhaps unexpected trickles linger
that they've left behind.
Let's call these angel sprinkles,
mysterious as they may seem,
trials and blessings interwoven
with beauty, as in a dream.
Yellow sugar on vanilla star cookies
misty fog behind a bow,
mustard seed faith in the goodness of others,
orange crocus popped through the snow.
Johnny jumpups and purple violets
fronting a lawn in May,
Perhaps their seeds fell from angels' wings
as they continued on their way.
Children splashing through puddles in red rubber boots,
laughs on roller coaster thrills,
a comforting hug after a quarrel,
could these have been angels' spills?
Perhaps we don't need
to search here and there,
because signs of angels
The ashes that formed us,
could they have been
splatters of ink
from an angel's pen?
Little infants, we,
with our tiny, twinkling eyes,
are we not only babies
but angels in disguise?
and our words and actions
sprinkled to and fro
throughout our lives
wherever we go
make us better or worse
depending on how we live
for each day holds choices
to take or to give.
May our deeds linger on as angel sprinkles
when our bodies are laid to rest
influencing others whose paths we crossed
so that those left behind are blessed.
Blessings, Sparklea :)