Today I met a man whose arm was drawn.
He couldn’t reach and take my hand.
His other arm was gone.
Today a daughter told me of her pain.
She couldn’t run or swim or climb,
from static in her brain.
Today I heard the sad cries of a son.
His father has forgotten him,
and nothing can be done.
Today each one of these has shared a gift,
an open door through which to go;
a burden there to lift.
The truth is this: my arm is missing, too.
My other one is stiff and bent.
God made me reach for you.
I’ve also had to stay inside all day.
My brain has static of its own.
You brought me out to play.
You’re grieving with a voice not all your own.
Love never will forget your name.
Love never cries alone.