Rachel runs through Cairo,
her covering and shoes long since discarded
as she rushes from mosque to square to church to street,
overwhelmed in the whirl of bloodshed and rage,
eyes blurred by mourning.
Her lament is heard beyond Egypt;
she wails at the sight of each broken body,
picks them up from the dust and devastation to hold them,
looks around her as though to find their lives
torn away by the violence.
These are her children, and
there can be no comfort for her tears.
Let us give our silence in honor of Rachel’s bitter mourning
and add our tears for the comfort & healing
of the blood-stained ground.