We both have known the world has skin
a gash that opens to a gaping wound,
where mothers bleed amongst lost
children in the forest, running, hungry,
knowing early that fear can feed you,
two years old, the wheels of the tank
goes round and round, oh god how
my heart bleeds remembering their
eyes, not because war has destroyed
their innocence, no it is intact,
war is as common as waking up,
giggling and fitting their tiny feet
on the mud tracks left by soldier's boots.
Counting one, two, three how many
are in the platoon, it is how they learn
their numbers, poverty is their school
and war is their teacher.
My friend, you know there are places
that people disappear as if by magic,
desaparecidos, in the middle
of the night and there are soldiers
torn by love, for back home their brother
is on the other side. The fathers know
it is a common fact to work 'till
they die, for a land that will never
be their own, the scythe kills the soul
and yet rice is scarce in my country Gabs,
80% agricultural country, a factory
of spare parts and raw materials
that will not feed its own people.
We both know there are scars
planted so deep its roots
are nourished by a dam of tears,
a dam barely walled by the everyday chore
that is life, that is breathing,
that is existing, that is knowing,
that is guilt, for that which is known,
for that which exists, which breathes,
which lives in the gaping wound of the world.
We both know why the blossoms
are beautiful Gabs, we wonder
in grateful awe
at what remains inside that
can still grow a garden.
for: Gabs
----oo0oo----
'We will meet again, my friend, a hundred years from today;
Far away from where we lived and where we used to play.
We will know each other's eyes and wonder where we met;
A hundred years apart will not make us forget.
Yes, we will meet, I'm sure of that, but let's not wait til then,
Let's take a walk beneath the oaks and share this world again.'
-- Ron Atchison
Thank you for the flowers my friend, it is a rare gift to find a friend, it is rarer still to find one who understands.
By horvax
© 2008 horvax
(All rights reserved)
