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