A Cup of Cold Aqua A cold cup, hurriedly filled, shaking in my jittery hands, “Aqua,” I explain. Passed over and downed gratefully, Prayer hands pressing again to his lips, also shaking. He is crying, distraught over what he has wrought, Over what is to come. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” we murmur to this little child then, Grasping for sympathy and help. Stumbling, easily confused, he cannot pass the test. Wincing, heart dropping, I see handcuff glint in dim light of the streetlamp. Now silent as he is led away, God hears my wordless prayers go up. Later, I can see grace here; Grace abounding from the unseen but always present Friend of Sinners, In the gentleness of the officers carrying out their duties, In the justice I hope restores us all, In the treasure we have in heaven, Not in vehicles from 2003. In a cup of cold water in his name to the drunk man who wrecks our car, Who is helping us hold lightly to the things that moth and rust destroy, And nighttime drivers cras...
