From underground, a worm hears a voice.
The sound travels through the earth with ripples that tickle.
“I knew you would show compassion!”
The words are angry,
rebuking and deserving of rebuke.
The reply is warm, like the dirt near the surface.
A voice of love in the face of anger,
peace in response to violence.
The worm knows this voice.
Its timbre resounds throughout creation.
The worm crawls toward the voices,
emerging from the ground in shadow.
A plant has grown. Its scent calls.
The worm eats. A leaf falls.
Sated, the worm descends to the warm sand.
A hot wind blows, skin dries, and again a cry:
“It would be better if I were dead!”
The worm digs back to the cool depths of the earth.

Ryan Henneberg attends Hope Mennonite Church in Wichita, Kan.