I love the skyline of my city
in the day, brilliant and bright
at night, glowing with the stars.

Coming down from the mountain,
the lights engulf the cars.
The iron messenger welcomes me
pointing at the sky
above the lovely brick and metal
that make up this history.

Rich with history, indeed it is.
Chills run down my spine
to know the horrors these buildings have seen.
No rain can make up
for the tears that have fallen on these sidewalks.
No bricks can build up
what cruelty has broken down.
No memorial can drive away
the haunting absence felt in that great church.

But there is beauty in this
in that life still remains.
That someone lives to paint the lower walls on Southside
or protect the cobblestone beauty of Morris Avenue.
That we know now where we have been
enough to have come this far.

The skyline says these things to me
it whispers them at sundown.
"We are here, we live
and we live artfully, wonderfully, triumphantly."
The lights glow with pride
and the buildings shine with change.

I love the skyline of my city
because it brings hope.