Angels are mothers who cradle memories and feelings
 that have no words.
 Who balm the wounds that must lay
 Open to the salty tears.

 They surround me now.
 Whispering in my ear to get out of bed, to take a shower,
 To say my prayers and buy myself a new pair of earings.
 

 Angels are fathers who encourage us
 To climb one rung higher on the jungle gym.
 Who build the fences that protect us from the monsters
 And keep us safe.

 They surround me now.
 Propping me up when my knees buckle as I remember your love,
 Reminding me of my strength and humor, teaching me how to caulk a mirror.
 

 But I wonder about these angels.
 Are you with them?
 Are you one of them?
 Do they know that I hate them? That I would trade anything to not know
 them?

 I want my words back.
 I want back the life, the love, the feelings that had words.
 Fuck those angels.

 I don't mean that.
 Well, not totally.
 I speak to them of you.
 But they already know.

 They surround me now.
 Whispering in my ear of things I don't want to hear
 About hope and love and God.
 About time and memories and tenderness.

 I sing the melody of your name.
 They sing the harmony.
 They are the chorus
 Singing halleluiah, amen. Halleluiah, amen.

 Angels are the mothers who cradle memories and
 The fathers who encourage us.
 I wonder about them.
 They surround me now.

 And I am grateful.