displaced

cold, stilled, expectant
awaiting retribution for pain
when the hammer sounds and the doors are closed

anxious, barren, homesick
awaiting redistribution of necessities
when thousands of voices sound as one and the gates of marble are opened

the chanting rhythm of prophetic music
we sing for the peace and freedom
stars dusted across the patchy sky
fog draping over the hills like a curtain
who knew the earth would shake in twenty-one unfurled minutes?

give me water for my child is going to die
the baneful cry of ghastly horrors
recumbent against my neighbors
yet diffident in my ability to love
is this the cry you long for?

each voice has its own tone and story
and the narrative of tommorrow is freedom

posted by jon havens