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Matthew Perryman Jones

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Matthew Perryman Jones

The Angels Were Singing

Talking to stone,
Listening to birds
With no more to say,
I kissed my fingers
And touched the red dirt

Wandering away
Through the moon-colored field
My heart was a weight
Of rage and sorrow
That longed to be healed

Then I started running
To feel more alive;
To wake up my senses
That slowly had died

And I wondered if angels
Were singing that night

Nothing's the same
The colors aren't bright
Since I kissed your face
And slowly whispered
My last goodbye
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Thinking of Jesus
At Lazarus's side
That heavenly sadness,
The shadows of light

His eyes saw the city
Where all is made right

And I heard that angels
Were singing that night

The angels were singing
As we sat and cried
Each tear was a chorus;
A sacred reprise

And I finally was grieving
That long goodbye

And I heard the angels
…Singing that night