On the Judgment Day, A Poem

Despite everything,

I believe that in the end,

when we show god what we made,

she will accept it like a gift and put it on the refrigerator.

And she will tell us to stand tall

and she will mark our growth on the door frame

and pretend not to notice when we stand on our toes.

Because she knows that by inches we ascend.

Mother, I wear your pencil marks

like crowns I am forever outgrowing and growing into.

And if one day I reach your height,

I’ll watch over my brothers and sisters while you rest

and at your bedside I will kiss your forehead

and hold your hand and pray

“world without end, world without end, world without end…”

 Amen.