Candy From A Baby
Posted: Wed Sep 26, 2007 7:27 pm
Fatigue and the milk of the god force slumber.
Body and mind brought together in rest.
With hope I pray neither will remember
Nor will he take up this hate in his breast.
Hate sent this babe from his house into mine,
Claiming the womb, heart and arms of his life.
Her body in ruin on the streets of our time.
Her husband in ruin for a lost soul, his wife.
His father tries to shore up his last strength,
Last tears, last prayers for this his last child.
Last hope nearly lost for a life of some length,
Since cruel violence did find his son so mild.
Once smothered in love, adored by her arms.
Now smothered in fear, uncertainty and cold.
Does he ask why she could not keep him from harm
As he fights for each breath, cries out for her hold?
We do what we must to preserve his spark,
Though brutal seem the hands that work their art.
Finding tissues, tiny and torn in his dark,
We also find God has protected his heart.
A simple clear saviour gives infant new breath-
Serves easy breath to his father as well.
Pulls crushing air what might lead him to death
And vents father’s already stifling hell.
Now in the quiet, I stand back most aware
Of a bitter confection these events have wrought-
A perfect, sanguine spiral trickles there,
Conjuring images-canes at Christmas bought.
I fear nevermore, whether time or trials pass
Will my weary mind’s eye abjure the sight-
A broken baby’s candy-shared with me-
On this sweet, sour and most woeful night.
Body and mind brought together in rest.
With hope I pray neither will remember
Nor will he take up this hate in his breast.
Hate sent this babe from his house into mine,
Claiming the womb, heart and arms of his life.
Her body in ruin on the streets of our time.
Her husband in ruin for a lost soul, his wife.
His father tries to shore up his last strength,
Last tears, last prayers for this his last child.
Last hope nearly lost for a life of some length,
Since cruel violence did find his son so mild.
Once smothered in love, adored by her arms.
Now smothered in fear, uncertainty and cold.
Does he ask why she could not keep him from harm
As he fights for each breath, cries out for her hold?
We do what we must to preserve his spark,
Though brutal seem the hands that work their art.
Finding tissues, tiny and torn in his dark,
We also find God has protected his heart.
A simple clear saviour gives infant new breath-
Serves easy breath to his father as well.
Pulls crushing air what might lead him to death
And vents father’s already stifling hell.
Now in the quiet, I stand back most aware
Of a bitter confection these events have wrought-
A perfect, sanguine spiral trickles there,
Conjuring images-canes at Christmas bought.
I fear nevermore, whether time or trials pass
Will my weary mind’s eye abjure the sight-
A broken baby’s candy-shared with me-
On this sweet, sour and most woeful night.