When she was born, she was my little angel. She was
my life, changed her diapers, what a chore, all mine.
In years to come and go we were one, part of me looked
back in my eyes and said Daddy to me, famous line.
Now she was five when my little angel died of cancer. Before she closed
her eyes she whispered, “Daddy, I always will be with you.”
Given ten years now since she left me, life has not
been easy, yet say good night to her every night I do.
There were moments when I had close encounters of being
hurt. Once I fell off a ladder onto a bush five feet away.
Often things like this happened, strange that every time near where
I was saved, I found little feathers, tiny yet even today.
Under the falling rain I was crossing the street and felt a push, a truck
missed me by inches, I landed on grass next to little feathers of white.
Can the love a child gone for so many years let the soul
remember words whispered of a little angel that lonely night?
Here my time for heaven has come, a little hand reaches out with wings so wide, yet one end of her wings has feathers missing, love does have a strong might.
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