Through the window the sky was looting at me gently

tomorrow it will weep again

Why are children killed in the land that Jesus lived in?

The sky is wise- it has to cover everything.

Sometimes the sun shine seems inappropriate.

I hold my book in one hand and I feel my breath slow down

Does the world inside us match the one without?

Now the clouds have rearranged themselves in the wind

Children are cruel too

I wish you were here but there are things I cannot tell you

I can’t tell you that we can get too near to God

But mostly we tread on him as he bleeds

The sun has almost gone and yet it’s very light as if the lights coming from the ground shining upwards

Soon night will fall and this light will be extinguished once again

Gently, gently, the night will come

I won’t forget