All Our Children

My news is filtered these days,

By choice.

I cannot hear it, listen directly,

My voice

Would be choked and broken by

Tears of despair,

So I receive it, relayed

From I know who, I know where.

Identical moments of difference

Repeated,

Once felt and imbued,

Knows all life is cheated

When mongers of evil

Grasp the horns of their ask

And wickedly skip

To fulfil their grim task.

Drowned in a flood of heartbreaking stories,

Portrayed by some media

Voyeuristically,

They glory

In visuals and depictions of hell

I have seen,

Can’t watch it, can’t listen.

I know what they mean.

One story, one picture

Is all that I need,

Imagination and empathy

The rest provides and will feed

The words that I hear

In my head to shout forth,

‘Is that all that matters?

Is this our real worth?

As humans, as beings,

As souls here for a while?

The best we can do?

Some weep as we smile.’

I can’t unimagine

All that I have seen.

I wish that I could.

Do you know what I mean?

That visions of hurting

And hell so alive

Would end with great loving

So all could survive

To reach out, support

All. We are but child,

No matter persuasion.

True children are mild.

Not always in action,

I’m not that naïve,

But, in heart, where with loving

All dreams can conceive

A home-loving family,

A hearth to play by,

A meal on the table,

A mother nearby,

A father to guard

And protect our intention,

To grow close together.

And dare I just mention

That nations, though living

With minds far apart,

Share familial love

That springs from the heart?

Our greatest confusion then,

Seems so to say,

That my family matters

Much more than do they.

Lies. Lies.

Terrible lies.

Those who purvey them,

Life must despise.

Look at a child,

Look into its soul,

Watch as they play,

Is this really our goal?

To end such small humans

Before they should grow

Into the enemy

We fear but don’t know?

I hate this with passion.

I hate that we hate.

I hate that compassion

Is left at the gate

Of battlefield’s anger

And greed and distrust.

If fighting there has to be,

Why then can’t we just

Send one small David

And one giant Goliath.

Let them sort it out

With stones and with malice,

If that’s in their hearts

Well, fix it that way,

But as for the rest,

We just want to play

With children around us

Their trust in sweet eyes,

To teach them to love

Not hate or despise

Another world brother

Because they don’t feel

Exactly as we do.

Get over it. Let’s heal

The wounds of division

With pens and with words,

With kindness and mercy,

Not weapons or swords

That pierce at the breast

Of parents all over

While children flee,

In terror, for cover.

Oh, Spirit, please help us

To look with new love

To defeat source of evil

With strength from above.

 

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