Monday, January 12, 2009

The Untimely Death of the Children of Gaza

Be still my heart.
The death of infants is upon me
The death of toddlers is upon me
The terrible death of the young is upon me.
Be still my soul
Do not tremble shaking the foundations of the world.
Stand still
Hush in the presence of the ghostly procession
Of the little children
Some pierced in the heart with cast lead
Some legless
Some armless
Some eyeless
I feel damned
I feel my complicity
For having failed to shield and protect.
Can I wash my hands clean of this crime
I am shaking
For the death of children has overtaken me
I have blood on my hands
We have blood on our hands
Shall we ever be forgiven
When you cried mama
Where was I
Where were the mothers of the world
When I heard you cry mama
I raised my eyes to the phosphorous sunset of blood and cried
Be still be still
For the blood of children is all around me
When the burning darkness of the man-made inferno engulfed you
and you rose against the walls of fire ablaze
Held for a moment in the arms of the crackling air
Only to fall fall into heaps of scorched flesh and bones
Where were we
O where were we
For the childish ghostly procession is upon us
12 January 2009