Yemen Lament

colour hands PB 7-20
I saw the news the other day – and it’s not gone away.
It’s proving hard to put out of mind. Impossible, I find. 

A frail child, lying still. I wondered, was she alive?
Until… I saw a movement, tiny, small. And that was all. 

Delicate limbs, needle-thin. Doting father, only kin.
Daughter in his lean arms held. Courage, felled. 

Sorry plight, fragile, weak. Mercy now, all he could seek.
And all he had to hold her there – was love and prayer. 

Those pictures flickered on my screen. In countless homes they too were seen.
Not sure our hearts can yet contain – such bitter pain. 

I wonder can such crying need, pierce our apathy & greed,
For a far off child’s sake, can our hearts break? 

I doubt that I can fully rest, till such injustice we arrest.
Until the bombs and guns will cease – I’ll have no peace.