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Found.

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Found this tonight in an old Moleskine as I was cleaning out my desk (maybe I have posted it on here before):



Angels sing in me.
I rush to write down what I hear.
I carry a pad and pencil everywhere,
for this singing may come at and hour in any place.
I must get it down quickly and turn it into words and phrases before it passes away,
leaving no trace.
For the Angels, I have noticed,
hardly ever sing the same song twice...
All I can do is pray that my Angels will return and look over my shoulder where I write,
and whisper a few more words in my ear.
So that the singing I heard you may hear too.


James Dillet Freeman, from "The Hilltop Heart"

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