Rise Up Slowly, Angel
Rise up slowly, Angel.
I can not let you go.
Just drift softly midst the faces,
In sorrow, now below.
Ease the searing anger, born in harsh unyielding truth,
That death could steal my loved one
From the glowing blush of youth.
Rise up slowly, Angel.
Do not leave me here alone,
Where the warmth of mortal essence
Lays replaced by cold, hard stone.
Speak to me in breezes whispered
Through the drying leaves.
And caress my brow with raindrops
Filtered by the sheltering trees.
Rise up slowly, Angel.
For I can not hear the song
Which calls you through the shadows
Into the light beyond.
Wrap me in a downy cape
Of sunshine, warm with love.
And kiss a tear-stained mother's face
With moonlight from above.
Then wait for me at sunset,
Beside the lily pond.
And guide me safely homeward
To your world, which lies beyond.
Just spread your arms to take me
In reunion's sweet embrace.
And we shall soar, together
To a different time and place.
Diane Robertson
TCF - Foxboro, MA
Bereavement Magazine
March/April 1992
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