inspired by, but not limited to, Gaza

it doesn’t matter

who attacked first or if the bombs came from Your side or Ours.

It only matters that infants and teenagers and old men lay dead

and mothers and brothers are left with 

memories.

It only matters that shards cut into skin 

and buildings fall down and records are destroyed.

It matters that in the history of human 

aggression, the sickness of Cain and Abel 

is getting worse, mechanical.

 

(The people who can do something about it may 

choose to pause the fighting, but it is merely a pause

and the recklessness will return next week, next month.)

 

What matters is not who started but who stops for good, 

once men and women choose to see that the

death of Your children

is no less important than the death of Our children.

poetry on New Year’s Day

I have realized that a blog is not for me.  At least, writing too intimately about yourself is not for me.  So now I plan to occasionally use this space for my poetry.    Until yesterday I have not been writing poetry, which is almost inconceivable for someone who used to write daily- mind you whether it’s good or bad is a matter of indifference.

 

so here goes!

 

New Year’s Day

The snow on the ground, 
a light dusting which will turn to ice,
is a canvas of hope. 
Blankness, emptiness and a promise
of bright and cheerful tomorrows
to rescue the sorrows of yesterday.

Last year we buried our dead, 
we buried some dreams, 
perhaps even some ancient fears.

We toast to the what-ifs and to each other 
as well; survival was laughter and
often shared tears.

The New Year is meticulously clean so far.
But know change will come
and loss 
and love
and doubt
and dancing, maybe.
Smile now, close then open our eyes and go outside
and begin again.