The whirr of angel wings
Hovers in the sleeping darkness
To surround a restless planet.
Ice flows rumble,
Tsunamis tumble,
The rivers of Turtle Island
Overflow their banks.
Buildings crumble,
Markets stumble,
And leaders bumble
With little oil
To fill their lamps.

And still the angel voices
Whisper in the night
To tell a different story,
Filled with tales of love and glory
And the coming of new light.

Each illumined face appears
Shining from the deep,
Their brilliant eyes,
Like burning stars,
Watch a world asleep.
As they draw near,
Their voices raised,
They sing their song
Of celestial praise.
“Wake up, world!
Wake up, man!
Wake up, woman!
Wake up, land!”

In far-flung places,
In open spaces
Of yielded heart and mind,
Like deserts winds
Through canyon walls
They speak to humankind,
Their presence felt
As much as heard,
Their joy a breath away,
Come listen now,
Hear their song
And all they have to say.

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