I was surprised to see God
sitting on the curb.
Beside Him was a large pool of blood.
I watched Him dip fine linen cloths
to soak up the blood.
He folded each stained cloth reverently.
I asked God: “What are you doing?”
“This is the blood of My son,” He replied.
“Oh no,” I said, “Yesterday I saw
an old black man stumbling from a bar.
He had a gunshot wound to his head.
This is his blood.”
“That’s right,” God told me.
“This is the blood of My son
and it is precious to Me.”