May the feather of an angel
never reach the ground below
to christen this profane earth

For that feather is a beautiful gift.
Whom many will step upon.
Instead may it land
within the hand
of the ones who sew soil.

To heal the callous hands
of those who cleanse the grounds.
So that others may walk gently.

May the tears of an angel
forever touch the souls beneath.
To make abundant its garden.

For that tear is jubilee
for the parched awaiting rain.
Not to land
on crude clay.

An anchor for those who despair
and steady shaken paths.
So that others may walk forward.