Tears re-moistened her lashes and her smooth cheeks
The sun would rise, but their bedroom was still dark
She reached over and felt his dent in the mattress
It no longer would feel his warmth
A small shiver made her cold
There was no questioning that would fill the void
It was the morning after...
Purple bruises rose on his skin beneath the saffron robe
He sat on the concrete silently repeating his prayers
Hoping for the strength to make it until evening
Knowing that he may not see a moon rise again
Waiting for it to begin again
His eyes still burned from tear gas
Body beaten but spirit intact
The choice was still strong even if his legs would not hold
Up
There were soft cries in the dark
Many others had not made it this far
He felt blessed to be sitting on the damp floor
The sun would bring no warmth today...
They felt as broken as their equipment
Bright lights, gleaming helmets, black guns had busted into
Their home
Solders smashing everything with the butts of their rifles
Broken glass shards flew into their carpets and their
Skin
Pieces of plastic littered the floor
As the guns had brought them down too, defiant
Blood running down their cheeks
Now crusted on their swollen eyed faces
Just how much time had passed
She wasn't moving...
He held his ticket in his hand in the gray-green bus station
On a bench that had been polished by anxious seats of others
His parents would just now realize that he was gone
The knapsack took up all of his lap
They said that the battle was not his
But he knew
The fight would rage on
The horizon waiting...
There were no singing angles
No choirs lifting their voices on high
Just a sound of moaning underneath the earth's noise of moving
Who is listening today?
Some withered hand reaches out and crushes a budding rose
But buds behind buds blooms will not stop
Even if the roots were dug out
Another seed floats on the wisps of the wind
Waiting
Leave a Comment
Untitled Comment
Posted on September 29, 2007 at 11:58 AM by
Bubba
"Who is listening today?" A fair question, I think, given world circumstances; but one thing is for sure, it is certainly not the U.S. executive branch. Maybe it should be mandatory for world leaders to have their own children and grandchildren sacrificed as fodder for the war machine. Perhaps then we'd find out if their passion for it holds its present zeal.
Untitled Comment
Posted on September 29, 2007 at 12:42 PM by
HouseMouse
HouseMouseYou write with such detail and heart that I can't help but think there is at least a molecule of truth in everything you write. Listening and hearing are such different concepts. What we all need is someone who truly hears.
So True
Posted on September 29, 2007 at 05:23 PM by
dermmot
dermmotSo true, If the roots are dug out, one seed can carry on. Very Powerful!
Hello
Posted on September 30, 2007 at 12:44 PM by
IJK
Very well done. Very moving.
Cheerily
IJK
