a poem in my pocket

Maybe God cries 

big tears of sadness

when grey skies rain,

grieving over evil in 

the world muddied by

our prideful rebellion.

His beloved children

deceived by the

enemy in snakeskin,

swiftly ushering in

disease and death

spoiling paradise,

stealing happiness.

God cries with us 

in our suffering,

pain, regret, loss.

Our Father’s tears

mingle with our own

to bring release

and comfort for our

souls’ grey sorrows.

Yet weather’s tears

cannot clean

the dark stains 

of hands and hearts

steeped in sin.

Only the pure blood

of His Son, our brother,

can wash all guilt away

in flood of grace.