Angels leave their fingerprints,
on morning skies while I snooze.
Reminders that, though bodies have gone,
connections to souls we never lose.
And while I sit and ponder those,
who were taken in their prime,
my heart is filled with silent sadness
and a yearning to turn back time.
But their hands gently hold my heart
mending the chronic ache,
and they leave their fingerprints upon the sky
for me to gaze upon when I wake.