We cannot see them,
though they are there.
Some of us can sense them
like the rain in the air.
Generations before us,
still staying around,
to see if we need help
not making a sound.
Our animals can see them,
sometimes they look strange,
looking over our shoulder
looking a bit deranged.
They are here to protect us,
to keep danger away.
Our guardian angels,
that will always stay.
So in times of need,
pay attention to the wind chimes,
blowing softly in the night air,
for maybe you will hear an angels prayer.
Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem