Of Ghosts and Angels

The rain was here yesterday,
A feel of summer without the heat,
The halo of healing mist,
The bright sunny blossom,
And sometimes a certain snow flake,
Which never kissed the ground,
The ghost from the past were there too,
Some hazy and some crystal clear,
but all a fiber entwined somewhere,
A touch, a smile, a tear drop,
Everything that was ugly and beautiful.

Then there were the angels,
In the sway of the bare trees,
In the dance of the cold breeze,
In the laughter of the innocent faces,
A song of life and its thread,
of moments that were once there,
Now a vague memory soon to be gone,
The ghost will always be,
And the angles will still sing,
Like a breath, a heartbeat, a glance,
Everything that weaves a dream.