These are a silent parcel of angels
dressed in white silk and gold
that arrive gently on pink sunsets
through darkness, we are told
lifting a soul with gossamer pearls called wings
magnificence and grace from all beauty in things
touching a heart, and guiding with hand
a path to Heaven, from a distance of land
Such journeys surpass all rivers, and seas
pure and simple, the wind through the trees
where all earthly pleasures become no more
while a Heaven's desire opens this door
A path of God, His one final domain
Greatness becomes from enduring much pain
Quietly, we leave here, beyond all we can see
where choirs of angels sing of sweet eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem