Why is it that angels have wings to fly?
A little boy asked when his mother had died.
To reach the heavens that lie above us?
To take off in flight? Meet those whom we've lost?
Where do wings come from and where are they now?
He looked to the sky and then to the ground,
I told him wings have always been right here,
Since we were born, existing through the years,
They say that our shoulder-blades are where they formed,
That our wings vanish then emerge once more,
When our time here on earth is done I said,
Did my Mummy grow wings now she is dead?
He looked at me with a tear in his eye,
I stared at him and I began to cry,
I told him his mum wasn't really dead,
Just that her time on earth had been well spent,
How do you know how much time you have left?
I looked towards his mothers empty bed,
You just know I had turned around to say,
Your Mummy knew she had to leave today,
Why did she leave without saying goodbye?
I could tell that he was about to cry,
So many questions he had to ask me,
I told the small boy, his mother was free,
She said goodbye in her own special way,
And you'll see her again, another day,
Has her pain gone? Does she feel quite all right?
Her pain has gone, she doesn't have to fight,
The little boys frown had turned upside-down,
I'm glad now I know my Mummy's okay,
He looked out the window towards the sky,
I know that I'll see you again real soon,
With my wings on my back I'll fly to you.
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