It is She
who nurtures and weeps.
Her hands outstretched
reaching for the creatures
that clings to her in anguish.
It is She
who will bear the fruits
that will be devoured
whose leaves will shelter
as they dry and fall
in the moist ground
beneath her covered feet
where after the rain
the wildflower will grow
like a smile of hope
in the midst
of a weeping world . . .
