The problem is, knowing where to look.
You see,
you’ll find no angels in the heavens,
or saints adorning lofty pillars,
no glowing robes, haloes, celestial dust
fiery chariots for that matter.
Because,
saints stay mostly in the gutter,
smell of vomit, piddle and stale tobacco,
with black nails chipped, bitten
beneath jaundiced nicotine.
So,
the harder you look
it becomes more impossible
without the signs.
You’ll never spot a saint or an angel,
they do not wish to be found, but
they will find you.
©
Graham Sherwood 09/2016
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