One Word
By
Radiance Angelina Petro
Bring forth what you can.
He considers nothing provincial.
Even with your head bowed
he sees your tears.
Bring the muslin cloth torn
from the thorn bush.
It is his business to sew you
back together.
Every touch of his own forehead
is a beckoning. All of his words
are one word: “Come.”
Lift your face, he is crying too.
