In the darkest night we were told
By those who at least pretend to lead us
That beyond this valley there will be
A light we can find to guide us free.
A shining light upon a hill
That we can find with hope and heart and will.
So we tramp on,
Crunching on things we were glad
We could not see.
But THERE
THERE it is. Blaring like a horn
There high above.
We rush to it,
Our legs aching with glorious pain
Up there beyond a cutting rain.
And we stand there at a loss:
Who knew it would be a burning cross?