Stopping By Cathedral Falls,W.V.

I think God comes here to weep.

Just as we sweep our tears behind our shower doors,
He comes here, where the falls pound like a curtain,
to the boulders below.

No one can hear Him.
No room here for any sound other than the falls.

You'd understand how He'd need to get away.
Wash away the mess of it all.

Our warring
our hatred
the spit we fling into each other's faces.

This, though,
this private cathedral enfolds us;
we are safe as it holds us
under a mountain of tears.

And after we weep together,
God and you and I
will dry
our faces
and move on.