Witness


Lovely canopy of leaves,
shade me from the destructive powers of darkness and dread;
fears so fierce they are afraid of babies.
Shield me from the children’s terror—their cries echo in my ears and I cannot bear to witness the far too many horrors felt in their young years.

Flowers fresh and petals white, tell me,
how has our world gone so very wrong?
Babies wrenched from mothers’ arms,
like leaves dashed down in yesterday’s storm.
Ash tree white, you understand the loss—
carcasses lying at your feet.

The voiceless, powerless, vulnerable bodies
are virgin sacrifices to the gods of heartlessness and greed.
Walled garden, roses climbing and petals blooming,
decorate the tent cities of the children.
cover them with the fragrance of care and plenty and beauty, warmth and soft,
wall them off from the slums of violence committed in the name of god.
Protect us all from the hate committed in the name of god.
Protect all the children of god.


© Christine Salkin Davis, 2018

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