Where Are The Singing Angels? Poem by Jerry Pike

Where are the singing angels?
Those goldmines from the book,
spent hours of worthless longing,
sweet walks beside a brook,
soft pledges gilt in loving,
occasions wrapped in hope,
belief in ever after
religion never spoke.

Where are the cries of promise?
Those silly laughter lines,
ha ha’d across a desert,
of hidden, somewhere, mines.
When do the lists of value
decree enough’s enough,
and scrape their broad eraser,
removing life’s rebuff.

Where is that story teller?
Those fortunes in the wind,
that whisperer of horse lies,
the one who never sinned.
How do the sums equations,
from minused turn to plused,
and guide our footpath journeys
from cradle unto dust.