Poetry Outdoors

On A Crying Deity

Zaven Ovian

God has crammed inside a cloud to cry

upon the earth the tears that every human shed

We die and we evaporate

And to the skies our sadness goes to come back

down and fill a street with puddles

Or roll off ducklings’ backs and meld

our crumbled bones as one in solar

winds that blew the forests down in fire

God could weep and put the fires out,

breathe deep and put them down

with just a gust, but

we had started them and

He can only do so much

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