For Danielle, Part Two

Lamentations: A Protest

You created her in her mother’s womb.
You know every hair on her head.  Every thought before she thinks it.
Nowhere can she go where your Spirit isn’t with her.
And yet, you’ve turned your back.
You haven’t spoken.
You’ve said nothing.
Where do you hide?
Under a rock?
In a sea volcano?
On Pluto?
Where have you gone?
Let yourself be found, damn it!
You haven’t been found in the chemotherapy – growth continued.
You weren’t found in surgery because the cancer had already spread to her
lungs.
At every turn she has gotten your back.
Why do you hide?

You’ve changed her children’s laughter into tears and worse,
Instilled fear.
You’ve stolen their childhood.
Making slime is no longer just making slime.
It now holds the possibility of being the last time to make slime, to pour
the borax with my mother.
You have them wondering, will this be the last?  Will she die?
Do not leave them motherless.

Her enemy surrounds her.  She cannot fight.
But you, great God, you make the Earth revolve around the sun, year after
year.
You raise the sun in the east and set it in the west.  Daily.
Surely a glance from you and she would be healed.
Do not disappoint.
Do not leave us broken-hearted.
Allow us to feast on fondue and smores over an open fire.
Allow us to make a toast in Big Sur shouting of your goodness and grace
for more life.
Show your face.
Heal her your servant, your daughter.

March 2017

First Fake Catch

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