when we do, we will be changed,

These days there are no words enough. We will heal when we heal;

we will die and birth either hate or more love:

the kind that is conceived in days like these when our children kill our children. What state is that?

Words fail. We sit in the grass that bears our babies – these are days of a state we never knew; days we blame God not hell; days we turn away from the Forgiver, to the Taunter of humans.

Father forgive us. Father, heal.

FMF