They Begged the Sky

They Begged the Sky

(“Go and learn what this saying means: ‘I want mercy and not sacrifice.’ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” Matthew 9:13)

Hidden beneath the aftermath of tsunami spirituality
are humans caught underneath the rubble.
Some think they deserved it,
some only came to observe it,
But most made up epithets to throw
if they ever surfaced above the fray.
Every day I meet another victim with
bruises on their arms and contusions on their hearts.
All they needed was someone to talk tenderly
while the fire lashed like a hungry tiger.
All they wanted was someone like them,
or even someone pretending to like them,
or, so it seems, someone less dreamlike.

They saw the fires, they felt the missiles,
they were stung by needles, they were facing
the needless pain they never paid for.

They begged the sky, they dug into the earth,
they doubted their worth, they were left in the rain
to dry.

After a while they gave up talking at all.
They were hermits of necessity,
they were monks hiding in caves.
They used to speak like lullabies;
they used to sing like the summer.
But now they are out of practice,
they recite monologues to themselves.

Everyone thought they were fine,
no one ever thought it was a crime to
leave them solo for so long. But they
stood with their backs to the wall looking
for someone that sounded like home.

And they begged for mercy to rain
on their parched tongues, they hoped for
grace reminding them of sunrise. They
watched for someone to bring them news
of the day.