CHRIS

In my dream I stand by the statue.
Skilled and capable hands had made
The bronze image.
I look into the frozen eyes and frozen smile
Set on a salt pillar, functioning as body.
With my hand spread across the face,
How hard and cold the image!
I, now, overcome with Lot's feelings,
Look into the face of the one who was,
Warm, intelligent, sarcastic and funny.

In my dream I stand by the statue.
I look into the frozen eyes,
Of the one who was.
How warm his arms,
How clear and blue his eyes.
Lovelier than any others.
How strong my brother,
How like a savior.