Hands

The lady standing there was praying.

She was dressed nicely, looked upper middle class.

Her hands were close together, each index finger touching her lips.

In her eyes was a pleading so desperate.

A wish so real. A hope so far.

In her view was a statue of Brahma, 

Gold 

With four heads.

In the air was the smell of incense and the chants of request.

Why, though, talk to an image made with hands?

Can a Holy thing dwell in something man-made?

Would a spirit incarnate in something unable to move?

If a god were truly good, wouldn’t he wish to be something mobile? 

Someone whose hands could touch the soul and give comfort so desperately needed?

She was a beautiful woman, who will be in my memory. 

The one standing in my view, reaching out her heart to something that wasn’t there.

And now, my prayer to my God, the One who made the person who made the image,

Lord Jesus, show her Your hands.

Written in March 29, 2000, after I visited Erawan Shrine in Bangkok, Thailand.

Erawan Shrine in Bangkok, Thailand. (2000)