Shuffling dinner plates
I hear news of other
plates
having shuffled
in far more painful ways
in places less comfortable than here.
Sadness takes a tectonic turn
toward anger
as I hear those who are blaming you,
the maker of this crusty ball,
for shaking the ground out of wrath
like some jealous child
angry at those who won't
follow your rules.
But in our nondecimated buildings
we know who You are
and we know better
than to think it was you;
It was not your fists
pounding dirt in rage
but your hands, open,
catching many of your children as they fell.
You did not break this world
but only you can heal it.
