Raining grief from heaven
Previously published on Kalahari Review
I err and walk away, God,
like a sucking baby in search of corn
and wonder if you cry then.
if you gnash your teeth
and shake your head
at the errors of your way.
or if being God means
the pain isn't fierce.
or that the tears
aren't there.
I wonder if you breathe,
as you watch us
like sparrows in a cornfield.
or if you hide the ache
and that's why we can't see you.
maybe all you're made of is pain
and the pain causes you
to unleash your fury, too.
so you sigh at your mistakes
and wish you had someone to talk to.
maybe you crave comfort, too,
and offer it to us to save you.
maybe you're selfish,
but you're God so it doesn't matter.
maybe you cry, and ache,
and hope it gets better.
or maybe we're dumps in your grand plan,
and you can only save yourself.
and if you cry,
I wonder why you hide so.
