What rests us (after Brussels)

IMG_20160322_134723What rests us
Are the ties of blood and selfish familiarity.
Those that speak our tongue and drink our water.
Nothing is larger than Life.

Fear is a funny thing, it defends
And depends upon our own indifference.
Why should we be spared? In my name, too,
the bombs are thrown. Elsewhere though.

On the second day of spring,
The darkness creeps higher,
In the name of a foreign God. Feigned.
For hate is homegrown.

We pay our collateral damages,
As the bulbs wake. After all,
Death comes everyday.
There is no glory beyond this world.

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One thought on “What rests us (after Brussels)

  1. I don’t know how to respond to the beautiful juxtaposition of the spring flowers. I know what it was like in America after 9/11 – the sense that fear and darkness were settling over the land. The compelling claims and counter-claims, as in your poem, create this sense that there is no solution or resolution. In the end, all I had to hold on to was the hope of healing. I pray that the community of good will that you herald finds that emerging from within.

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