Poem October 2, 1971 Issue

ALL THE TIME THE ANGEL WAS THERE

Doris Peel

As the cold waters inexorably rose
and the night deepened, dark upon dark,
with no word spoken from out the void
and no sign given in flame or cloud
all the time—unseen, unheard—
the angel was there
standing guard.

O all the time, with upraised sword,
the angel faithfully held at bay
those shadowy legions ringed about:
those terrors massed for a last assault
on a stranded traveler, a frightened child
too voiceless even to cry for help until—in a still engulfing dark
without, as yet, one gleam of dawn—
the sword was turned
to a sweet-stringed thing.

And the angel, placing it close to me,
said, "Take up your harp again!
And sing!"

Doris Peel

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