Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
The following is a piece of writing submitted by Hannah on October 13, 2008
"I was in my chapel after church, waiting for one of my meetings, when our choir started to sing and I grabbed my notebook out of my bag quickly so I could write this. "
Choir of Angels
Whispered conversations not to be heardby the strangers that haunt these halls.
A word of advice is never wanted,
but always appreciated when needed.
How could such a world exist without a God?
How can they not believe
these incredible things were made just for them?
White bricks on a wall of stone;
talking of families and friends
and things of the most importance.
Choirs of angels sing of beauty and bliss,
sitting on stages of glowing purple.
The men's voices are quiet, unsure,
but deep and awe-inspiring.
Their dark suits of deepest cut,
their faces blurred and unseen.
The woman's voices rise above the rest,
crowding over the empty room
filled with lonely benches.
Sounds as majestic as would please God,
as they praise His name with their wondrous song.
Flowers full in bloom stop to hear,
with their petals stretching towards heaven.
Twisted grins and hands open in welcome,
but I decline,
not wanting to ruin their harmonious song.
Their message of hope and peace shatter hearts of ice,
and I wish that these empty seats were filled.
The piano's notes are high and pure,
setting the tone for the singer's voices.
Shedding a small tear for those who can't,
or don't want to hear,
as they hurry and bustle about their daily lives,
never stopping to listen to the notes.
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