'A Prayer of Love'

In this catholic school
with crosses on walls
and Jesus
bruised and kind
looking down upon me,
upon us all.
In this small room,
veiled girls
and boys with netted headcaps
bow,
whispering words of glory
in a foreign tongue
perhaps
to the same god
by a different name.
And the son
on the wall sneaks a glance
at the sons
on the ground
and outside,
the sons in the protests
set faith to flame
while the sons in the war
raise hands
not in prayer
but, defense.
Mosques shattered &
churches torn,
temples trembling
slowly to death.

None of that
in here.
In this little room,
we bow down,
we praise the lord -
our lord, their lord, all lords.
Look at us,
building a mosque
on a carpet
borrowed from a chapel floor.
Look at us
how god moves
through our hands,
our breaths,
our small kindnesses.
look at us
how love,
the oldest prayer,
still works through us.