Kabrakan and Zipakna Discuss Theology

So, there he was,
his eyes wide and pupils dilated,
a shriek rising in his stuttered throat,
indentations deepening in the leather Bible
clutched in his white-knuckled hands.

The seeming certainty of our deaths loomed closer
as the floor pitched and rolled and glass shattered
and one woman screamed high-pitched terror.
Another clutched her whimpering child
closer to her protective, eternally safe bosom,
and softly murmured reassuring words into his ear.

My sense of detachment came from a confidence
that this tremor would pass
and we were not bound for the abyss.
Even if we were, I wondered,
why does this man of God stink of fear?
What does that say about his faith?

Then the shaking abruptly stopped.
The one woman gasped for air,
her screeching having emptied her lungs,
and the man feebly pronounced,
"Praise the Lord!"

The mother gently spoke to an upturned face,
"There, I told you it would be all right!"

Mother, I thought, your calm at the doorstep of doom
sings hosannas! No pulpit or alter
offers sanctuary as sound as your caress
and no faith in this room is as strong as your arms.

I knew then that were God to speak to me,
Her voice would be the voice of my mother.