Capable Monsters

The radio newscaster brings me a story of Syria tonight

Every child has my child’s face

Her look of fearful calamity when “they’re being mean” happens,

Her tears with trembling lip opening into a wet howl

I fold her up safe in mama’s certainty that God loves and protects us

But I’m in such a panic imagining all these babies, with my blessed child’s face, starving

or carved up by machetes, or exploded into a million cherished pieces

The report reveals children know, and are “waiting to die”

With their mothers, in their last moments, wrapping their bodies around them – the greatest love manifesting inadequate fleshen shields

All that human potential discarded

Oh my God, what kind of creation are we?

Such capable monsters

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2 thoughts on “Capable Monsters

    • What a beautiful poem. I recently had a daughter and every time I read/watch about children dying in Syria, it breaks my heart. I have cried about it and mourned these children. Spent days talking to others about the horrors inflicted on them and marveled at the worlds ability to continue to go on as if nothing is happening. I don’t know what I can do anymore. I try to pray for them everyday and keep telling people about it. I hope this ends soon. Every day it continues more innocent lives are lost.

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