I will remember you, you orange sky

West from the window of the train I watch

Amazed that in this latter age the touch

Of sun to earth unheeded passes by.

As we all sit moronic reading trash

A steeple silhouetted stark against

Magnificence stabs upward. Glory paints. 

Why do we scorn a scene which in a flash

Passes in time and space and then is lost? 

I’d sat in half despair until I saw

This glory, lifting me in joy and awe,

And said, the boundary to hope is crossed

And when I later saw your lovely face

It was the same reminder of God’s grace. 

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