Camino

Of course, we found God by accident.
Not in the seas’ eternity
or the omnipresent sand;
Not in the majesty of mountains
or the baptism of streams;
Not even in the wind, though that
is Biblically sound;
and not in the tiniest flower,
Transplanted from the sermon on the mount,
Nor in the Psalmists’ cattle on a thousand hills.
No.
We found God when, going to the loo –
That most crude of human functions,
half-way up ‘The Rivals’,
There it was on the post.
A pilgrim not like us but yet like us,
Travelling with a purpose.
With God.