Light on a hill.

I lift my eyes From the depths of despair,

To a light on a hill that casts oppressing shadows and glares.

Where are your hands? Where is your heart?

Your thumbs are in your pockets, and your mind is a whore.

Your deeds amount to little, but your faith is apparently, transparently strong.

And when you finally wake to find me, I'll be gone

Yes... in your Great Awakening, in your greatest charity, you'll find me gone.

What are your prayers but pledges... what is your love but law--

You'll see these chains won't bend for pride, and your status quo won't change me.

Yes, dirt can breath and dirt has life, and this dirt is my soul you see.

And if you can't work the dirt and sow the seed, your labor is in vain to me.

Because this dirt can breath and this dirt has life, and this dirt that you see- it bleeds.

Oh Righteous is the crown you wear, you placed it there yourself,

And if higher ground is what you're after, your ladder will not get you there.

Buildings made by man's due strength can fall and tumble to the ground,

As do hills by salty seas.

So if you dim the fluorescents of your marquee and open a window to my plight,

Lift your body through the window sill and run with all your might,

Place your toes in the mud of my poverty and be a more radient Light.

*Just something I've been working on since this morning. Still a work in progress. It's inspire by Vincent Van Gogh's The Church at Auvers.

In his painting, the church is bleak, and there seems to be no doors. No way for some to find refuge within it's walls, and no way for believers to go out and

be a refuge for others. A true picture of what many have experienced.

"The foreground of The Church at Auvers is brightly lit by the sun, but the church itself sits in its own shadow, and "neither reflects nor emanates any light of its own."