Alone
upon a stool,
surrounded by his shattered life.
A nameless village
in a disbanded land.
Torn asunder by brothers hands.
Souls scarred deeper
then the razed buildings,
remnants of a life.
Now scattered,
like cherry blossoms
after a spring rain.
When he was young,
the fields were ripe with wheat,
orchards and vineyards flourished.
Children laughed,
chickens, goats and dogs
roamed the streets.
Voices in his cafe
rang with laughter,
it was good.
Christian,Muslim,Jew
brothers, husbands, wives, children.
gone, never to return
So he sits,
in stunned wonder
for there is so little left.
This Christmas,
give the gift of peace,
love one another.
Namaste,
I open my heart .
Please, open yours..
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
Sheila
