When angels cry they cry alone under feathered frothy wings between cumulus clouds

They curl in cracks creating a rainbow red the sclera gold the flecks of hope green the iris turquoise the tear in the corner

No one sees the sparkling tears though some humans feel a drop or two but many go unnoticed

Their lashes whisk the dust away fluttering blue sequin cracks in what seems to be a curtain of grey

They cry for peace watching brother and sister fight They cry for mankind and heartache Times when no one strokes the back of the needy

I cried with them once but earth's clay turned to mud For I neither had the power nor the ability to change the world

So I prayed I prayed for my angel to go elsewhere and come back to cleanse the world a little bit with one silver tear Then cleanse me that I might help make a new humanity

( Marcia Schechinger, USA )