Did you know that there was a door
Which opened to a garden
Which had a path 
That led to my window?
A concrete stream
Breaking through the waves of roses
Of tall oaks
And mighty pines,
Runs from your door to my window.
Will you sit beneath my sight
Like a thief cloaked in shadows?
Or will you stand before me
And let my fingers touch your wings?
You are an angel,
Are you not?
And I am a soul on the run.
Perhaps I should come to your door
Through the garden paths
That grow  dark in the dim light
Before the winter's dawn
And ask for shelter among you
And your people.
Are you with your people?
I am not.
My people no longer live here.
Only me.
Only me, Angel.
Am I allowed into your home
To say my verse
And sing my song?
Am I allowed to eat with you,
Find rest with you,
Entertain you?
Angel, though my face is young
And my body younger,
My mind is older than I.
I need a break from this world
From this garden
From this window
In an abandoned home.
Am I allowed to leave this house
And follow you, Angel? 

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