Christchurch Mosque Massacre

I know today
I will get nothing done
I will not write
I will sit here dazed
scroll the screen
page through one book
or another
I know when these
distractions fail my eyes
will fill with tears again
for what I cannot speak
I know there are no words
I can command
to light the measure
of this loss, this grievous loss,
to call out the hot metal tang
of evil, guard the soft dear flesh
under the boot--
I know
I am not worthy
even to voice this.
May God grant peace
to the tormented.

litdawg said:

We should never be denied poetry if poetry is how we grieve, think, breathe. Write it.

Click to expand...

Well, of course, I am. But this is probably the only one I will share. When an event has too many layers and is too emotionally fraught, it isn't always best to throw words at it right away in an attempt to fully honor it. This one is more like preparing a hospital bed for the heart.

I will share that Merwin's death coming on the heels of the massacre stimulates the persistent image of his spirit going to shelter and protect the traumatized ones who died in such shock and horror.