When Heaven Sleeps
Veronica Garcia
These tears that fall, like rain at night,
and bathe the trees and violets,
do not sing, but cool the air I drink,
like wine in golden goblets.
I breathe the scents of new cut grass
by tear-washed roses where I stand,
to see the lovers dancing in the stars,
and hear the oceans kiss the land.
And in the whispering of the night,
Heaven waves its gossamer wings,
like clouds of mist within the dark,
to sleep as the angels sing.
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