Bed after bed, child after child.
Some calm, some thrashing.
Some laughing, some wailing.
Calling for mommy.
Calling for God.

One sits up, eyes open, asking.
I go to him, sit, answer.
He nods, falls back, gone again.

I was once in a bed like them—fevered, deluded.
Now I’m in a chair—I suppose it’s better.
A roomful of loonies.

I return to my crossword puzzle
Until the next one sits up, asks.
– Jed McKenna, Spiritual Enlightenment, The Damnedest Thing