I will not be crossing the threshold of heaven,
I will stop at the stoop and sit in the dust
with the old criers, Mother Rachel … La Llorona, Kuan-shi and Banshee?
all are bent crones with broken fingernails and ragged hair,
tear furrows are carved deep in their faces from centuries of weeping.
I will join them and we will weep together?
weep for the forgiven and the unforgiven,
weep for the brutalized and those who are brutal,
we will weep until the wood of heaven’s gates
grows soft from the salt of our tears
and the locks break under the weight of their rust.
We will weep until the great gates break open
and every soul that was ever born has slipped inside.
We will weep even though we weep a day short of forever…
We will weep until every mother’s child
has been re-gathered into her arms.

Published in Poems