Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Poem 15 – Secret weapon

There is a tendency among the faithful to introduce metaphysical
Dimensions to the fighting people going through the dead terrified of
Recognizing I am the matriarch Rachel lying in the streets with families
Kissing their faces go this way strewn with arms feet shoes we have
Enormous power I keep restraining for some reason the soldiers
Listen to her etched Palestinian man holding a swaddled baby
Swamped with demands for the names of soldiers to pray for
Outside destroyed buildings old man kneeling I divided the
Family to try and save some carrying two books for double I think
The baby’s dead but doctors are having a hard time gathering the right
Body 6106 of clearness 2892 parts and the floor filled with 1818 blood
Crieth unto me from the ground East Jerusalem is not Gaza Israel was deeply
Deeply sorrowful in Qana God willing the merit of being united in prayer
Despite our children barely breathing next to mothers’ corpses
Brings closer the final redemption in a donkey cart

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