HARPS OF HEAVEN

 Winter falls upon us, the winds of cold blow, 

 Leaves have fallen from the now naked trees.

 Thoughts of miracles are a snow falling dream,

 Angels dance in the sky, and comfort the night.

 Musical sound echoes from heaven,

 The strumming of harps, harps of heaven.

 Above the clouds, beyond the sparkling stars,

 Where there is no cold, no sorrow day to day.

 Play those harps, let the beauty of peace be heard,

 Let the spirits rejoice as eternal life is beautiful.

  Upon us are worldly pleasures,

  Listen for the harps of heaven.

                Keith Garrett

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