Points of an Angel, a Poem
Points of an Angel
The points of light had
faded above my T.V. set,
all the rudderless ships had
come to shore...
a broad road is where pirates walk,
but for me, moss covers the path..
So I waited, for the lights,
the points of angels to lift me
above the common road,
No. They don't, I'm down in it,
just like any slob, I'm sober but
people kill people for Meth around here,
covered in filth, stumbling to poison gods,
But angels show up anyway- in patience.
Shows up at the least examined day...
points, scintillas of light sparkle in
the corners of the room as I pray,
tips of angel's wings, every time
I bow my head and thank him...
crippled perhaps, poor perhaps,
yet oddly filled with grace.