All We Have to Give
You haven't known my name for years
or that we have two children.
Drifting downward, a rag doll in your chair,
teeth grinding, staring blankly.
It's been ages since you looked into my eyes.
But yesterday. Yesterday you did.
Raised your face out from your hands,
gazed directly into me, beseeching,
begging I do something. I don't know what.
Help you like I used to. Set you free, somehow.
Shocking, to see you again,
you as you were, but now
my hands are empty.
All I have are tears.
At the pharmacy today, a lady asked me
How is she? I told her your despair.
She put her hand on mine, looked into my eyes.
God is testing her, and testing you.
Just pray. One day He'll need an angel,
take her to His arms.
I'll pray too. Testing her?
What has she done? What can she do?
What kind of god is that?
We appreciate your prayers, I said.
Thank you, through more tears. I can
no longer walk the sunny paths of Sunday school,
have a thousand reasons why.
But who am I in this wide universe?
None of us can drink life straight.
.
