Saturday, August 2, 2014

The man with the broken child in his arms

I don't know their names, but I will not let them be just another number, just another statistic!

They have a story- each one of these humans...

I don't know their lives but I see the stories their faces tell me.

I will tell their story-

They haunt me, these beautiful faces. Their nobility and courage....They bring me to tears. My heart cracks open to receive them. 

This is the man with the broken child in his arms. His face says it all-
Utter disbelief!
He does not look at the child,
He cannot...
But he holds the child with such tenderness
His right hand circles the child's wrist
There is such love and shock
And loss...

He is lost

Him in the foreground
The child broken- gone...
Them in the background in ragged clothes
Barefoot 
One in the background with another wounded in his arms
In this world of dust and madness

Their life!
Their reality!

He is in my heart tonite, 
The man with the broken child in his arms

They all are
The bleeding, the broken...
The dying, the dead...
The living and grieving
My brothers 
My sisters
Whose blood 
Like mine
Is red-

The humans in Gaza...


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