Mothers of ash

-
I've walked down this path before
Fought on these very sands.
Where the mothers of ash
still cradle their silent children.
All the world watches and judges
drops bombs and closes bridges.
But what of the innocents?
What of them?
They are not 'our' innocents, they say.
not 'our' children
not raised with 'our' values
of love and compassion.
They don't worship 'our' gods
the heathens.
Let them drown in the Mediterranean.
What of them!
They are their father's children, they say.
Brought up on poison
taught to hate in schools and at home.
They are here to kill us all.
Yes! Even the 3 year old
who is dying of starvation and thirst.
Even the 12 year old girl
being sold into slavery for a pittance
by a father with no other thought
but to feed his other children.
At least for a day.
And when the young, brought up
in an atmosphere of hate
and deprivation and exploitation
and segregation and discrimination
take up weapons against this cruel world?
See! Vindication! Validation!
They are their father's children.
And so we are proved right, each day.
Until there is no one left.
But day and night and hate and death.
Where the sands of time have run to a stop
and the mothers of ash
still cradle their oh so silent children.

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