A drop on my shoulder,
Like a comforting hand;
The thunder rolls,
Becoming my friend.
Sunbeams gently showing,
Another drop yet falls;
The spirits that have passed,
Have heralded my call.
The call of my heart,
Burdened by hurt and pain;
Of loved ones coming forward,
Through each drop of the rain.
Water is symbolic,
For washing away our sins;
The rain came for me today,
To cleanse away my pains.
A breeze blows gently,
As I look into the sky;
The pain eases and lifts,
For I know my angels cried.
Written M. White on May 11, 2003
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Journey of the Archangel...Let it be something that maybe someone out there can understand and let it be real for them. Be it through poetry, a story, or just a simply log entry...let the words speak to you....hear them, for they are there for you.
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