Tiny Points of Life

The Heavens Burn

“The Heavens Burn”

                                                                           A cloud of emptiness,
                                                                           A cumulous of sorrow,
                                                                           Circles the world.
                                                                           Slowing, lingering
                                                                           Steeping its vaporous stench,
                                                                           Moving on.
                                                                           Tuesday over Treblinka.
                                                                           Sunday over Sudan.
                                                                           Monday over Manhattan.
                                                                           And now,
                                                                           Tonight,
                                                                           Dimming the lights
                                                                           In the City of Love.
                                                                           Then on. Ever on.
                                                                           Lebanon. Jerusalem. Aleppo.
                                                                           Nothing new.
                                                                           Always new.
                                                                           So many
                                                                           So many
                                                                           So many
                                                                           Are never coming home.
                                                                           Empty shoes.
                                                                           Hollow sleeves.
                                                                           Open windows
                                                                           To the silent rooms of history.
                                                                           We are in the midst of it.
                                                                           Now. Right now.
                                                                           The human miracle.
                                                                           When the sun hisses out,
                                                                           And the Earth turns to coal,
                                                                           What was life? What was human?
                                                                           Who will we have been?
                                                                           We are better than this.
                                                                           We are better than this.
                                                                           We have to be better than this.
                                                                           Liberté. Égalité. Fraternité.
                                                                           Rise. Rise up. Lift yourselves. Believe.
                                                                           Push against the gravity of our species.
                                                                           Remember your mothers.
                                                                           Remember the ache
                                                                           Of that first, desperate love,
                                                                           As Paris weeps in darkness
                                                                           And the heavens burn in mourning.

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