God, we lift up the cross
in Iskandariya,
the pietas of families
with their grief,
those who feel fear
wondering what good friday
will come —
to a soccer game, an air flight,
a ride on the subway.
We do not yet know
the things that make for peace,
and stones on the tombs
of the innocent
are still so great and heavy.
God, send angels
to roll them away. Amen.
