Another Chance

I stand way up high on concrete peaks.
I am not an eagle, but I leap the same.
I am falling, falling, falling…
Above the clouds the angels cry,
she was not an Angel and could not fly.
she has fallen,
into the dark.
What can we do?
I heard them say.
My act I could not justify.
They reach down and pull me back.
Up, way up,
to snow covered peaks.
If when you die,
children will cry,
others will ask why,
and some will sigh.
They said,
it’s not your time
and you cannot push.
Look inside and take this child.
Nurture the little one.
Hold her tight and
ease the pain that hurts inside.
Lift her way up high,
to splendid peaks above the sky.
Where Angels dance
and Eagles fly…
Patsy 2016, poem revised from 1993 when written by Pat who will always be part of me.