Angels ripped apart their own wings
and soft white feathers floated down from the sky
by the thousands
showering the men and the women
Sliding off their shoulders taking their sins with them
The children tried to catch them but the feathers blew away in fluffly rolling clouds
Because the young are innocent
and the young are pure
and need no angel baths to clean behind their ears
The feathers turned to dust, to soot, to ashes
as they crumbled in the sin
and the angels wings were bare
but they were beautiful and their eyes shone in glory
Though white bones hung from their shoulders
bare as antlers,
bright as stars
And all the people,
all the millions
swept the dust, the soot, the ashes
and were clean and pure as young ones
praising heaven, praising God
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