White water was tumbling over itself,
As the rapids put on quite a show,
Becoming a beautiful waterfall,
Cascading down, to the calm below.
Behind the wall of crystal mist,
An arc of pastels appeared,
I thought it was a rainbow,
But saw more clearly as I neared;
That it was a choir of little angels,
Dressed in lavender, pink and blue,
Snow white wings majestically spread,
Gently sweeping away the dew.
From the fresh new life born of springtime,
Young buds on the old, sturdy trees,
Bursting forth in hints of green,
As the angels went to their knees;
Where they tenderly took sweet violets,
And placed them carefully in their hair,
Creating an image of beauty,
So awesome, and so very rare.
I turned away as I saw a dove,
Gently landing on some boughs,
As I looked back at the angels,
I could see only their little toes.
Their work here was completed,
They knew my soul had been refreshed,
As they soared back into the heavens,
I felt so entirely blessed.
And these magnificent waterfalls,
Will always be dear to me,
As I remember the sweet little angels,
My Lord wanted me to see.