A Child

Today The Great I Am is crying.
Everywhere I see He weeps.
Salty tears drip down my window and soak my hair.
Stoplight. He cries. Pass the fairgrounds. He cries.

She rocks in her chair.
Holding the black beaded scarf covering her head.
Soft repetitious mutters.
Unmistakable body language of calamity befallen.

Deep-as-the-Universe restrained expressions of grief.
This one paces. That one hugs. She vacantly shakes her head.
They freeze in prayer. Allah have mercy.
Tired, terrified eyes.

I come and go. There is no relief for this.
An ice pack for her head. Shared anguish for her soul.
The nurse must triage in room 8 and will be with us.
We wait for the impossible-to-know known.

She must see him? She. Must. See. Him.
An unthinkable reunion.
I silently stand. I stare at the clock so my thoughts do not overtake me.
The room is too small for all this anguish.

She mutters her prayers as I mutter mine.
Two coroners, a chaplain, a father and a mother.
And One God.
Allah have mercy. Christ have mercy.

Today The Great I Am is crying.
The grey sad sky pays homage to a mother’s darkest.
Creation must recognize the loss.
The rain, it drips down my window.