A deserved divinity

Does a God need gas and air
to carry the agony of a second degree tear,
are pain and suffering prerequisites
for the right to be worshiped?

I always thought miracles would be
instantaneous with a serene
wave of an unseen hand, but creation
is dragged from the battlefields.

Bloody and bandaged stretchered
and stitched, the clink of steel
clamps and the moaning of the sick,
waiting for shock to throw its stone.

As the world was lifted into her arms
I wept at her hand, vowed to follow
their every step and breath together,
a promise I will keep forever and ever.