flamingred: TOWARD MORNING
Sometimes when I wake up early in the morning before it is light, I hear my baby talking in his crib. If I rise upon my elbow gently so that he will not see me, I can see him there in the dim light , dark eyes with his fat hands clasped together or patting one another. All the while he makes those tender, inarticulate sounds in his own language .
To whom is he speaking in the dark , towards morning ? Is he still talking in the language of the angels
to some visitor invisible to me but seen by his pure eyes ?
Is he making a report of his days events , his own progress, or asking after the welfare of others
he loves in he land he left so short a time ago?
Perhaps the angel who cared for him comes in that holy hour , to sit with him and love him yet awhile ...
towards morning .....