A Rush Of Wings

Sunlight filters through the trees,
the forest floor a myriad of mossy greens,
while I sit beside a cool, rippling stream,
I feel, rather than hear,
a sudden rush of wings.

I search the leafy canopy for birds,
knowing in my heart I'll find none there,
for of all God's great and wondrous things,
there is nothing quite like
the brush of angels wings.

As I listen to the music of the glade,
and breathe the spicy, perfumed air,
I pause in awe filled wonder,
that I was entertaining angels...
unaware.

When I slowly stand to take my leave,
I take in the beauty all around,
so I shall not soon forget,
and discount today among ordinary things,
for it was touched by heaven,
in a sudden rush of wings.