Angels Don't Have Wings

No halo marks us in the crowd, No trumpet blast or thunder loud. We blend into the mundane flow, And leave before they even know. Messengers in mortal guise, No sacred choirs, no holy cries. Fades like stars before the dawn, Yet leave our mark when we are gone. How many walked beside you today? How many helped and turned away? You search the clouds for holy things, But angels come without their wings. Abraham saw three at his door, He offered bread, he asked no more. Had he but known what grace had come, The test of faith would be undone. Jacob dreamed a ladder toward the skies, Where angels climbed before his eyes. If wings they had, they’d soar instead, No need for steps beneath their tread. How many walked beside you today? How many helped and turned away? You search the clouds for holy things, But angels come without their wings. We walk among you, calm, concealed, Our purpose quietly revealed. You pass us by, you never know, Till some soft mercy we bestow. And if you meet a gaze tonight, That warms your heart or feels just right, You might have met, without a sign, A messenger in humankind. How many angels crossed your way, And vanished softly through the day? You’ll never know, you’ll never see, Heaven wears humanity.