a one
in a million
chance
to be blessed
that grace
should touch
my harsh days
in soft spoken
sincerity and solace

if he could manifest
over the miles
here to me
at the first fall
of heavy tears
i would imagine
it would be
like the sound
of an owl
taking flight

that soft
rush of air
phantasmal
elegant
dreamwhispered
and consoling
that makes
everything slow
to the speed
of a sigh

every doubt
the nagging fears
all the aching
would race
to incinerate
against the hearts
of stars
just because
he would
pick me up
compassionate
and his eyes
would tell me

it's ok angel
i'm here































for my vigilant watchman

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