|it is one of the first poems I wrote.I considered myself an agnostic at the time.|
A sharp pain woke me from my sleep.
Inside my soul I felt the knife
I tried to make the pain abate
Without a change of life
But still the ache persisted;
I tried hard to forget;
Till I sat down in my garden chair,
And stayed with my upset.
The sun may shine,
the birds may sing
But that to me
no pleasure brings
Because of my regret.
As I sat still upon my chair
To me three Angels did appear,
And they are with me yet.
They took my soul into their care,
With golden threads they’re sewing there,
Until the work’s complete.
My task is just to sit quite still.
And let God’s angels do His Will,
As I sit here at His Feet.