I believe angels have wings, satin to the touch, large and white
In the beginning, they are coarse, small, barely in sight

Wings are grown working through others to help those on earth in life
Expanding in size through harsh times dealing with pain and strife

Tiny wings all too often stained with the ashes of life’s deepest pain
The loss of loved ones in each individual valley of darkness and rain

Battles of the heart against evils such as accident, disease and suicide
Tragedies taken the hardest by the young with eyes just beginning to open wide

Angels arrive to hear each child ask through tears for reasons why
Struggling to makes sense of the change when mom, dad or grandparents die

So many cherished ones of the young all too often taken away
Children left confused, not understanding why they could not stay

Angels walk the ruins of each small, shattered heart
Through tiny scattered pieces of love at life’s start

How is a child to heal from so much sorrow?
How will they find the strength in their little bodies for tomorrow?

I believe angels begin the mending through Michael’s Place and the CBN
Starting new beginnings, out of each painful end

United to bringing children out together into the light
Sharing with others who deal with many a similar plight

At a camp in the woods or a Monday night away from home
Children side by side, learning they are not alone

Angels seeking to forge chains of friendship from pain’s fire
Children looking into the eyes of others, souls lifted higher

In circles and groups in a basement or under a shade tree, each story is told
Tales so stark and deeply sad, a hot, humid summer day turns cold

Is there a loving god? On nights that there is sleep, will dreams ever come true?
Will the vast emptiness in each small heart ever be through?

The angel wings continue to grow as answers slowly begin to be found
Pieces of each heart start to heal, hope grows and begins to abound

Children supporting each other, learning it is nothing they have done
Realizing together, it is not their fault, they were a good daughter or son

It is not something they easily “could’ve” or “should’ve”
Each is like another, seeking to repair the damage with love

Angels dusting the ashes of pain and sorrow from those so tiny and small
Children leaning on each other, once again learning to walk tall

Wings continue to grow larger as each young heart learns to survive
Children begin to look up to teens and adults with eyes yearning to come alive

Out of life’s painful ashes, Children walk again, angels start to fly
In this land of darkness and rain, a new dawn of sun and blue sky

Angels have toiled through those grown from this pain years before
Adults that have walked in their own ashes, now hold open the door

Young and old have learned that memories and pain will always be there
If shared, memories become brighter, pain less heavy because others care

Together, joined at the heart, adults and children move on to a higher place
If you look close, you will see angel wings in each eye and ash on each face

Tony Anderson – August 2005