An angel is hovering in the sky,

Floating silently in the air,

Soaring high above the treetops,

Lightly drifting here and there.

Looking down at people rushing,

Running everywhere they go.

Dashing, crashing, smashing, thrashing;

The angel glides past, softly slow.

Watching life in all its forms

Twist and turn in its troubled course,

The angel hovers in the clouds

The only quiet and peaceful force.

And seeing sorrow, pain and hunger

Suffered daily, year by year,

The angel turns her head away

And quietly sheds a gentle tear.

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