I don't know how to make theology out of it. I don't care because for me this is where heart comes in. I know in my bones that Infinite God grieves. The sadness known to the house finch chick who fell from the nest, the fear and loss of its mother, the regret of the universe at that moment leads to the infinite grief of God. Anything God does in genuine response of His own is and must be infinite. As in the Holy Word, down to the smallest and least of them. When life is unfair, as it so frequently is, God grieves the necessity of that. Because it is necessary. It always has been. Life must prey on life. There is nothing else it can prey on, nothing but life and its gifts and remains. The oxygen we breathe in is the exhale of plant life. The prey will always know its own protest. The prey will always Witness. And God perhaps eternally grieves as she sees as a mother does through the prey's own eyes.
Call The Grieving God
The walls are too high.
They go too far left and right.
Storms will come near soon
And wild eyed, we still cast blame.
Call the grieving god to help
The host cross over.
We think we know what happens
And still the walls fall.
This poem was written on October 27, 2008
First posted, January 16, 2009