We are on our knees
In awe and supplication
For we have remembered the incomprehensible value
Of every human life.
We have heard the thrum of helicopter blades
And wailing sirens.
We have smelled the ash and smoke.
We have seen the blood-spattered sidewalks
And the ravaged bodies of your children.
We cannot un-see.
Help us, dear God.
Bathe our ears
Soothe our senses
Flush our eyes
Wrap your mother’s arms around us,
For we need to be reminded of you,
to remember what is holy
We ask for the strength to remember that
We are the helpers.
We are the hope.
We are the face behind the bomb suit
We are the children rushing to answer their fathers’ feverish texts
We are running the 27th mile to donate blood
We are kindness to strangers
We are the searching dog
We are hearts glued to the television
We are compassion for whoever did this, and
For the suffering life out of which this violence came
We are on our knees cleaning blood off hospital floors
We are the impulse to run toward chaos.
We are the helpers, and the hope.
Inside our breaking hearts is all the evidence we need
That an unshakable conspiracy of goodness thrives in rubble and ash.
—Boston, MA April 16, 2013