The Pastor points to the top of the sanctuary delivering fire and brimstone ! He proclaims the Son of God "stands among us " , is looking down , walking the crowd so kneel down , worship at his feet , be afraid and get yourself saved !!
Jesus Christ is drinking from a thermos , picking through his lunchbox , checking the time on a pocket watch , not concerned with attending a pep rally in his honor but busy directing traffic at the crossroad of thought , disguising himself as a homeless man on a city sidewalk ! Performing daily miracles that are taken for granted , the sparkle in a babies eye , the full Moon in the nighttime sky ! Answering to his boss just like you and I  , punching in at seven , clocking out at five ! A hundred gallons of unanswered prayers stuffed in a fifty gallon bucket !
Double timing across The Sea of Galilee to get four more !
Tracking the Heavenly Host , handing out work orders , keeping one eye on the Devil and one on Creation . Working overtime to rescue the sinner from damnation ! Delivering the word of God , unloading the freight car of Salvation* !

The sky cries kerosine
when it watches us take
our lives and think of
suicide.

It cries kerosine when it
hears us call ourselves
worthless and relapse.

But it also cries tears
of joy the day we get
over ourselves and
pasts.

The day we walk with
our heads held high. The
day we walk with our
hearts full of pride. The
day our sorrows crumble
and die.

The sky sighs as it watches
us believe a little more in
ourselves. As we hold our umbrellas up to protect
our bodies from the fiery
red blazing flames.

And as we walk by the
river side saying apologies
to ourselves for the self
hate and the razor blades
we swallowed and ate after
cutting our own flesh* ~

Each morning I awake
with a renewed hope
that my walk, my sifting
through the day
will become seamless
like the dreams of my nights
that flow from place to place
without barriers, or hindrances
to empathy, to understanding
Like the water seeps through the soil,
as the breeze blows through the leaves
in my dreams each of us
fully gather thoughts,
feelings and desires of each other
All relationships ensue
unescorted by impediments
My fear is that
few others dream this dream
rather haunted by
nightmares that bleed
into reality, nightmares
of violence, poverty, despair
of pockets of hell
growing around them
on this earth

They touch my feet
There always their for me
When I'm shy
They make me fly
The shoes under my feet