An angel in heaven
Lived with God.
His commands he performed
And errands he ran.
His creations
A world of nations and oceans
Creatures big and small,
Walking and crawling and swimming.
Living to die and dying to live,
Wilting seeds, fodder for plants
Some flowering, some dying,
But life sprouting again.
To the angel, He said;
Buds and flowers not to be nipped
They are not just buds
They are trees with a life ahead.
But a bud about to flower
Drooped and fell.
The angel could not save this
The God had His reasons.
He told the angel
Some buds are mine
Never nipped but taken
To the real paradise with me.
— Abraham Mathew
