Poetry I Like: Earth's Angels

Earth's Angels

I like to think that wind
Is angels in the trees,
Stately noble angels
That no one ever, ever sees.

When the world is peaceful
And people and people are living right,
They rustle the branches gently
Throughout the entire night.

But when the world is wicked
The sorrow bursts from the trees,
And it sounds like the wailing,
Woeful hum
Of hostile, atrocious bees.
But in my imagining
It's angels sorrowing in the tree.
At night they call a council
Of angels on the earth,
Each angel chooses a mortal
To guide to his preordained worth.

So I like to think that wind
Is angels in the trees
Stately noble angels
That no one ever, ever sees.

Written by Naomi Lewis, age 17.
Penned the night before she died in a train-bus tragedy Dec. 1, 1938, South Jordan, Utah