Shattered

 

How painfully innocence dies in cherubic brown faces,

Some unbroken still gambol in the phosphorous rubble,

These within a mother's or kindred's tethering gaze, 

Allah's silent through munition blasts or murmured prayer.

Shattered,

Faith,

Hope,

Love.

Ammad, beautiful boy sheltering in dangerous places,

Hellfire bursts over, under, around, his tender frame,

Despondent dad gently cups Ammad's sallow cheeks, 

Asunder his gory remains. Pleas ending in blank stares.

Shattered.

Son.

Heart.

Love.

Amna, kind girl, bravely offering kin simple graces,

Fetching water when water is marked by munitions,

Remnant relatives ever mourn in her empty spaces, 

In this place of pain and nations n'er giving a care.

Shattered.

Daughter.

Despair.

Love.

Sidra, from Gaza to Rafah found no safe places,

"Gospel" guided bombs erased her shrinking world,

Died she of the blast or the shredding of her frame,

Feet frayed, spiked to a wall, hanging in mid-air,

Shattered.

Shattered.

Shattered.

Love.

Ammad Al-Najjar

Amna al-Mufti

Sidra Hassouna

Angels Burning

 

How you have fallen from heaven,

    morning star, son of the dawn!

Angel of light, resonating beatific in the presence of love,

Of God, in God, with God, unconsumed blinding coal,

Walking starfields that pined and paled in your wake.

Such grace bestowed. 

Even thou, when eyes then love aver, writhing in hate

For the beautiful, the pure. Fear, fellowship wear old,

In burning cold shadows, exiled and ever unbeloved.

Angels burning,

Stars collapsing,

Weeping,

Weeping.

Sons and daughters of stardust, earth dust and breath,

Imago Dei, defiled, defiling afore gory golden calves.

Baal, Molech, Eros, Mammon. Ravenous filth-wraiths.

The gifts corrode.

Each hubris tribe, Babel builders, spurn the ancient faith,

Each spews out the seed to engorge the worthless chaff,

In the icy darkness their daemons draw them into death.

Angels burning,

Moon blackening,

Gnashing,

Teeth gnashing.

Bread, Wine, and Spirit, rekindle the dormant gospel,

Arsenals to ploughs, the undiscovered country beckons.

Still, hope burns as a cathedral candle pierces shades.

Love, Faith, Hope harrowed.

Charlatan prophets smear as true confessions fade.

In this prism of infamy, God's love, God's heaven,

Char hellish as devils enlist sin-seasoned apostles.

Angles burning.

Temples falling.

Sorrowing.

Sorrowing.

Walking and waking and wandering,

That which I would not do,

Pulls as an ancient murky tide,

In me.

Do not show me your hands and feet.

I cannot meet your gaze.

Your benevolent gaze.

Angels burning.

Gnarled spirit lamenting.

Breaths sighing,

Prayers sighing.

"In his hands I saw a great golden spear, 

and at the iron tip there appeared to be a point of fire. 

This he plunged into my heart several times 

so that it penetrated to my entrails. 

When he pulled it out, I felt that he took them with it, 

and left me utterly consumed by the great love of God."

(St. Theresa of Avila)