The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
~ Maya Angelou
Her eyes were kindled from the lamps of Heaven.
Her voice reached through me, tender, sweet and low:
An angel's voice, a music of its own.
And in the center, great wings spread apart,
more than a thousand festive angels shone,
each one distinct in radiance, and in art.