Linda Beatrice Brown
Nov 17, 20201 min
Listen, they are waiting, the angels in the attic,
in the long forgotten places where we closed them off and banished them. We have shadowed them; we have left them there to die.
They are waiting in the boxes and the trunks and in the dusty corners.
They are waiting, the angels in the attic.
They belong to us; they live in that special luminous place.
They are longing for our call, for our cry.
They are listening for our hearts’ resolve to be that shaft of light.
They are real, as real as we will ever be.
They are not those Christmas statues that decorate our homes.
They are not those baby cupids that fly around in paintings.
They are ferocious lovers of the Spirit that we breathe.
They are messengers that only live to serve.
Listen, call down your angels. We sorely need them now.
The angel of the whispers murmurs wisdom.
The angel of the music sings of courage.
The angel of acceptance signals trust.
Call down your angels that speak truth within the corners of your heart,
the teaching ones that put the answers in your path,
the difficult ones that give us tough assignments to complete,
the challenging ones that will not cease reminding you of service.
They are waiting for your call.
Listen for the rustle of their wings.
Listen, they are calling us as well.
© Linda Beatrice Brown