There is a church sitting
in a desert far from
civilization, yet when the
bell rings, all the wayward
souls arrive and sit along
the dusty pews.

They look upon the grimy stained glass,
their hands clasped together,
mouths moving in silent prayer,
eyes shining with hope and
glowing from the colored dust.

Here, there is shelter against
the burning heat of the sun
that cracks the white paint
on the church sides, revealing the
grey beneath.