Listening to every heart
In the deepest recesses of my thoughts alone
I listen carefully to the soft tone
Of ancient laughter, sobs and cheers
The stillness of the voices I silently hear.
I recognize some of family, mother, father, friend
Some make me smile, some I donít comprehend
Even today, after years of remembering what was heard
The chatter takes on the twittering of many birds.
But in the darkness, in moonlight soft and quiet
The Whisperings present a tumultuous riot.
Wondering faintly, is this my conscience speaking
Or the sound of angelsí comments as they are peeking?
I know the Angels are around, I feel them in my heart
Whispering quiet and low, soft, never sharp
Asking one another if they have guided me right
Gently beseeching Him to keep me in his light.
All children know their Angelsí Whispers, but forget as they grow
That the Angels will watch through all of the times
Whether troubled, happy, or seemingly ruined in kind
Nevertheless the angels stay and whisper soft hope to the mind.
Is it ďConscienceĒ or Angelsí Whispers do you think?
Which would cause you more to smile?
Iíd like to think it is my Fatherís voice in the guise of an angel,
Taking care of me all the while.
So keep Whispering on, my Angels dear
And guide me with your thoughts of care
Knowing that you trust in me to step kindly throughout
My Fatherís world, and his creations dear. Amen