Divine Interruptions

(You'll find this one on my other blog as well, but for those of you who don't feel like hunting it down, I'm posting it here.)

A walk in the park with an unseen friend
Brings me to this scene:
A lady
young, lovely, heavy with child
rests upon the painted green bench
with a box of tissues beside her--
recently emptied--
and a photograph in hand.
Tears stream down her cheek
as she gazes into the face
of the soldier,
of the lover,
of the father
who will never come home.
Pitying,
I avert my eyes,
quicken my step,
move along.
Try to ignore the grief.
Try.
Try.
Don't remember your own.
Throw up a prayer,
A glance of pity.
That is all.
It is enough.
-it is not-
my friend, unseen
chimes in
softly
-turn around-
-go back, go back-
Go back?! I cry
But why?
I know not her name
Her face
Her pain.
I am a stranger,
she does not need me.
How could I help
I myself am not healed.
I'll walk on.
-turn around-
-go back, go back-
He insists.
But I do not know her,
I cry yet again.
And she does not know me.
And I am unprepared.
And my words are faltering.
-go back, go back-
-she needs a friend-
Send someone else.
-no, this is yours-
Mine?
But why?
-do you remember...-
Remember?
What?
-remember your pain?-
Oh that.
Again.
Why is that important?
-her name is yours when you were hurt-
-her face is yours when you cried-
-her pain is yours when your heart was broken-
-that is why you must turn around-
-she is you-
-go back, go back-
Our pain is not the same.
-but it is pain.-
She is me?
I am she?
But what shall I say?
-nothing. i shall speak-
As you say.
-turn around, go back-
So I gather my courage
and turn.

Tags: God speaking, still-small voice