Author's Note: Morteza, refugee, brilliant surgeon, idealist and dreamer has returned from his annual mercy mission to the country of his birth. The changes he sees in his adopted country cause him deep angst. He is filled with foreboding for the future. These poems continue the reconciling voice of Rosa, his wife and fellow refugee, of which the first three appeared in December.
Part 3 (continued) Rosa to Morteza
IV Sometimes darkness dominates. Young men step on mines. Young women visit markets where, lying in stealth, are bombs and lost limbs and a future robbed of hope. Shunned cripples, abandoned, robbed of hope, dare not dream. But you have healing in your hands Your gift dances through rooms once shuttered and dark. Then curtains billow and from grey days spring fresh petals of brightness. Songs of tomorrow sound again. To some you bring the blue of day. You cannot fix everything but you can sweep some darkness away. V We are only our dreams so why shouldn’t we, with prophets and seers, float out of our darkened window on a beam of pure light, soaring high above the fog, floating on cushions of air beyond swamp and desert to see, just over the horizon, a new world rising out of the dark, that one where justice descends like the morning dew, swords are beaten into ploughshares and peace, like a mantle, covers the glistening earth. (First appeared in One Sentence Poems ) VI We have heard the orphan's cry and the widow’s groan. We have seen the limbless victims of war. We turn to both suffering and joy, taking what gifts we can, your healing hands, our touch, soft and gentle as a kiss, our words, kind like healing balm and our empathy that is palm to palm.
©2021 Neil Creighton
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