Wild Child

Wild Child

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Home Sweet Home

One day
they will realize, that you are not as solid
as the brick walls protecting them
once erected by the strength, and
the courage of your vital force.
Standing tall, you stood for
all the descendants
of a common ancestor.

Those countless brutal winters
take their toll, even on Giants.
Unintended consequences ignored
your weathered mortar crumbling, but still holding together beats
Beating whispers, of
your afflicted conscious.

Your soles should speak
exposing stories, of horrifying sensibilities
our ears never seeping, the
screaming whispers we choose to ignore
details traveling to our senses
your eyes, confessing the particulars
deep inflection, the
mirrored reflection of humanity.

Bitter is he, when
all the sweetness of life is torn away
Misery obscures judgment, yet
we judge him
he sleeps with torment
blanketed by hunger on a crisp night, yet
we torment him.
Passing him we look away
truth be told, with disdain
when his hand reaches out
terror stricken, a reminder
that HE IS US at our worst, yet
he smiles warmly, a sweet token, that
the richness of home is in the heart.

(Sculpture and poem for a show called "Outside the Margins", proceeds benefiting refugees in transition).

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