The Cry

who among us is deaf not to hear the cry
of the unborn baby whose dream was shattered
that because he couldn’t see the sun
He knew his life no longer mattered

Who can understand the cry
of the man who at the airport awaited his wife to return
that because not even in her casket would he say good bye
He wails like thunder while his cheeks burn

The shepherd listens not to the cry of the sheep
but beckons them to sleep while he consumes their pasture
too much to sow and never to reap
the sheep know their master and never of rapture

I will cry by the night
but I smile when I see the sun
to have my tears wiped off by the light
that when the darkness mocks me, I know I am not done

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