If you go to Berlin,
visit the Neue Wache.
There is only one room,
one thing to see,
a sculpture of a mother
and a dead soldier.
Her son.
The street outside is loud,
a complicated conversation between
a thousand cars,
but inside the stone walls
people whisper.
An open skylight in the ceiling
lets in the rain
like a flood
of tears
and the light
lands like an eye
on the back wall,
imploring us
to see.