Poetry

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As I wandered aimlessly
Through deserted streets,
The gentle rain patted softly
Against my body.

Not attentive
To the hours I walked,
I was not aware
Of the tiny drops
Forming streams
Upon my head.

Slowly trickling down,
Following
The curls of my hair,
They cascaded,
Sympathetically,
Onto my downcast face.

As I instinctively
Raised a weary hand
To wipe away the wetness,
I found myself wondering
If the moisture
Was from the rain
Or my own
Tears of sorrow
That flooded
From my eyes.

I turned my confused,
Bewildered face
Heaven-ward
And whispered
"Why God?"

I could hear
No comforting answer
Come from Him.
But I felt
His tears of compassion
As He continued
To weep
With me.

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