Come follow me to the simple brightness.

Here we touch the very foot—
the *****, dusty sandal with toes that know the ache
of long, long days’ walks,
whose very feet walked in your shoes and my shoes and all
worlds’ shoes, not stopping, but stooping
to write in the dust for us.

Come be with me as we eat with him,
walk with him,
sleep out in the open with him
and know so little of wealth
or prestige or understanding.

Come stand with me as we face death. Here are his eyes
seeing every single thing
and loving beyond the dark abyss.

How can I do less?
And, yet, how can I do anything?

I live because You live in me.
I breathe because You breathe in me.
I see, I hear, I love, I understand,
because You are the one
who brings me heart—generous and whole heart,
all here, all alive, all held in love,
only, only love that stands and moves
with ease to hold open arms
that never before got full.

And now
I bring You grief for loss
that I cannot make right.
I bring You fury that cannot
remove the sting of exploitation.

Holy One, sometimes my prayers are

mostly

tears.