Many angels have You sent my way –
the friends, the wise ones, the butterfly
who circled round me that day,
the silent tree that reminded me
I belong.
But I don’t always see clearly
through my myopia of preference.
I suspect there have been others,
beggars in their bedraggled rags,
aching pain and fear.
I sent them away without tea.
Forgive me. Give me
the courage to know
You in a thousand colors.
The violins are playing
now so gently.
I pause to listen and
open to Your song.
Photo by Cottonbro from Pexels
