you weep for the dumb
the mute
the silence/d
for their lack of language
the helplessness in their eyes
the unknowing, unnerving look in their cries
the way I weep for my son and his kind
at such times, I long
to gather you up
like a bunch of unpicked wild flowers
and hold you close
but time, space, place, distance
conspire to ensure my gesture
is as in vain
as their soon to be slaughtered pleas and blank faces
that fall on deaf ears
and your tears
but I won't let the sound
of pain's whine escape
from my throat
I make sure I try
to keep the balance
between real and ideal
refuse to go insane
fight to comprehend
the indifferent universe
that allows
both chaos and design
and to remake it fresh
I made this difference:
snakes freed from wicker
onto desert sand
the vanity of unclipped wings in a cage
*silenced
ReplyDelete