Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Saturday, April 9, 2022

The Rubble

 

The Rubble

The rubble stained.
The rubble cloaks shame.
Innocence taken.
Innocence lost and forgotten,
as if it never existed.
Once, there were children playing,
their laughter echoing through these streets.
Their faces beamed with joy as they ran free,
playing hopscotch and hide-and-go-seek.
Once, fathers and mothers tucked their children into bed.
Teeth brushed,
bruises tended to,
bedtime stories told, as
the moon and stuffed animals listened.
Once, there were lunches made,
homework examined,
board games played,
holidays celebrated,
music played.
Once, there were grandparents conversing,
tending to the children,
bridging the present to the past.
The sun rose.
The sun set.
Life was lived.
Love was shared.
Underneath the rubble,
bodies are buried.
Hope ravaged.
Laughter silenced.
Life ended.
The promise of tomorrow stolen.
 
Praying for the people of Ukraine

6 comments:

  1. I can only imagine how your family feels living through this again - the depths of the brutality is more than my heart can take. But we cannot look away. Am wondering what it will take for other countries to actively help.

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  2. So much more needed then we are providing. Your poem puts us in the midst of it all.

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