“It is true.”

He whispered

and a tear

on his cheek

glistened

in silent

glory.

He apologized

for the tears,

but not for

the emotion

and continued—

with a broken voice.

“God lives,”

he declared.

“This, I know.”

The congregation

watched a

grown man

cry.

A weakness,

some thought

and shrugged

it off

in embarrassment.

But I smiled,

and my heart,

as well as

my eyes,

glistened

with him,

because I knew

that I was

weak, too.