A candle for the downtrodden

I came in carrying my own oppression.

Then when the incense filled my senses

I remembered theirs.

For once,

I wanted nothing from the flame for my own sake,

but to let it burn

for someone else.

I sat, and I prayed. 

From across the world, offering up my friends

and family to the holy of holies

Thousands of tourists

moved around me as ghosts in the background

But I only saw the altar.

I sat in a church

that holds a tree

wrenched into a crown.