The Baker

Once i chanced upon an angel
Crying in the snow
And i stood in silence
Watching winged sorrow

He finally slowed his sobbing
Looked at me and proclaimed
"What is the meaning of existence?
Is it all but a wicked game?

If Father loves us so
Why sadness, pain and hate?
Love and beauty He did make
But so did sin He create"

As i stared into those eyes
I sincerely began to ponder
Upon looking at my hands
I came to the answer

"Your Father is a baker
And it's baker's fundamental
A little salt is necessary
to bring out flavour's full potential"

That said i turned from him
And continued on my journey
A slow trudge through thick snow
Through the blank, through the empty.