Driving down, down
past the Arch and the new Stadium
into the the dark corners of corrupt a city –
I paused to ask,
Have I ever seen this world?
From behind a condemned building –
windows smashed, fresh with chilling
memoirs of another crime –
I noticed a skyline alive with lights and joy:
electric and eclectic; silver and gold,
scarlet and yellow; a rainbow of light:
bright and clear – n’er blurry, n’er drear.
Long live the city, I said.
And then, the corruption was afire
against the backdrop of the glory
of the city of man:
the condemned structures outlined
by the splendor of the shining lights.
All this glory
will one day fade, I sang.
But, Ah! Much there is that glimmers
in a rusted age.
In the shelter that night
I had seen men of all faces:
many heroes of the city of man –
some earnest and thankful,
some mocking and sleepy –
heroes all, and some great men.
Much promise now spent.
And yet, good remains.
And now, driving up, up
past the Arch and the new Stadium –
I long for The City
with sweet heartbreak:
for the city of God.
For The City, I ache.