Beautiful poem written a by a visitor after he was taken for a walk in the sex lanes a few days ago:
The least of these my sisters
In the line, on display
Empty vessels, wilted flowers
Painted petals appearing new
Drunk dry by these my brothers
Dashing clay against the ground
“Fill my cup!” each one will cry
Filled yet again under ribbon sky
No light
No warmth
No home
Where can my sisters go?
With inviting gleam the beacon calls
From darkness into light
Come hope
Come love
Come fellowship
Drink deep the sweet respite
Drink deep the living water
Its well shall not run dry
Drink deep of its salvat1on
Shine light under ribbon sky
The least of these my sisters
First in line are you
He has come to heal the masses
He is making all things new
-Michael Suderman
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