where angels still sing
there is magic in the air
electrical and elusive
like a razor thin damsel’s wing
all is quiet in the inner mind
perfect conditions
to welcome and learn the
universal language of appreciation
what can’t be found here
that doesn’t exist above or beyond
whether beneath the frost
or high above the treetops
where angels still sing
december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Lovely use of words.
Thank you very much.
Such a wonderful poem, my friend. Particularly love the beginning 3 lines – and of course, angels are always welcome visitors. xo
So happy you enjoyed this one, Kathleen. I hope you’re safe and warm wherever you may be.