Still he opened his throstle, and chanted
his prayer, that despair will die and each
root of hopefulness will bring grace
Tag: Ukraine
War on Refugees
Now politicians think up wicked schemes and plot
to send them to countries violating human rights,
spending our money to perpetrate crimes against
humanity, binding them in chains and sending them
away to suffer more, be killed and so Pilate Patel
washes her hands.
Prayer on the Front Line.
I pray for Ukraine, that each blade of grass, flowers, bees and beetles, birds and butterflies . —- I pray for their protection against the avalanche of violence and vile destruction. —– I pray for each small child, girl or boy, their school, hospital, park and their climbing tree. ——- I pray for their safety,… Continue reading Prayer on the Front Line.
The Flames of Death
It was beautiful, the newly shooting buds of ancient trees, those toppled by the terrible storms defiantly greening, At our feet the carpet of pungent garlic holding its buds as precious gifts to a foraging folk and here and there stars of anemones shining in the dim lit ancient path. == We trod on round… Continue reading The Flames of Death
Ukraine and Evil
She stepped over the grim reminder that somewhere, someone wants her dead, harried, frightened, threatened, fastened to her people by a thread of vile, red evil that looks to reject what was not perfect – but was the way they lived, and gave of their best for their nation and now they ration their food… Continue reading Ukraine and Evil
War on Pregnant Women
It was the pregnant woman cradling her hope that shook me, a brave baby born to turmoil, no real future, freedom of speech and the liberty to choose a path where hissing missiles and guzzling guns will not overwhelm the fragile life that sparks behind closed contented eyes. – A year ago a couple’s loving… Continue reading War on Pregnant Women
My Country’s Shame
The shame falls on me like showers of hail, it drums on my burdened head. And I want it to help me shed my skin and bury me but- Would I be a whitened sepulchre? Faceless with my nation’s baseless and graceless way of torturing small children by turning them back, rejecting their cries because… Continue reading My Country’s Shame
The Murder of the Innocents.
The child’s eyes are closed
and her heart stops beating.
War showing again its yellowed
face of cowardice and words
War in Winter
Grief digs deeper when the winter months mutter war, the loss of place, of purposeful peace and the gross destruction of homes, humans and even habitats of tiny beings that have sought warmth under the frozen crust. ——- It’s a bloody burden that they carry on breaking backs, as they see bursting bombs of greed… Continue reading War in Winter