Idols sit high above heads of worshippers
Locked away in tall towers
Fantasised about
The warm and supple walk dirt paths that stick to them
Feet are caked in the earth they travel
They wash it off to stand in the presence of something greater than themselves
The sun sets and eyes follow it
It calls them to places that are unknown
While religious monuments stay locked away
Holding idealism in their outstretched arms
Madonna stands graciously offering redemption and kindness
For a shiny penny or an act of penance
My feet shall retain their dirt
As I pass by Madonnas door
My eyes shall remain downcast
As fallen as an apple to the ground
For dust is my kin and the earth is where I shall return
If I lie in it to rest
Or stand in it to live
Little Wren 