Prayer from Matthew 10: 29-30 for Xinmo, China, for Islamabad, Pakistan

Not a sparrow falls to the ground,
you say —
how much more those trapped
beneath the landslide in Xinmo, Sichuan Province,
or those caught on the highway
in the explosion of the
Islamabad tanker?
They do not fall without your love.

God, I hate the fact
that this promise is not about
your saving us
from the taking away of life –
I want some kind of universal rescue,

then I see you crouched there
on the shoulder of the highway,
closing the eyes
of the gray-haired woman,
who tried to gather a little spilled fuel,
rocking the burned ten year-old
who didn’t stay in the car.

And I see you urging on
the emergency workers from Mao County ,
but not from some helicopter
or holy ghost perspective,
for you are under all that rock,
the mud, the debris,
pinned with the most fragile
of human sparrows.

You brush away my foolish prayers
for good weather, lost keys,
a parking spot –
not now, you say, not now.

You must not lose count
of hairs on their heads,
but with those tears in your eyes
you can hardly see.

Also, there are some
without hair.
You remember
holding in great value
how the sunlight would glint
on this one’s sweet bald spot,

on all those sweet souls.

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