by Christina Hubbard
What a rapid ride of confusion, a nation
Thinking we do so much right.
Obviously, we have been oblivious
To the system’s need,
To kids crying out
To be whole,
We ask tough answers of ourselves,
Solutions to grow from soon-to-be-graves.
Oh, God, by this river of pain
Atrocity never offers an explanation,
A reason for animosity’s angry rapids.
It will not.
For hate hurts us all,
Inward, outward, upside down.
The raft is overturned, life jackets bob empty in eddies.
A river rages in adolescent veins,
This water does not wash us clean.
Though we may feel desensitized,
We are not free from disturbance.
It is not right to feel nothing.
Ignorance is bliss,
But this death march demands
More than therapy and strategy.
It needs to undo us.
Yes, bring our wet, bleeding hearts to public spaces.
Ask what we are slowly forgetting to ask
In the growing normality of dying kids,
We must not fail our future.
Move us, Lord, to the depths
Where hearts cannot go it alone.
Take us to the suffering so we can dam up this rage.
Our questions will carve caverns,
Desperation will shovel ditches,
For the lake we fill with today’s tears.
This post is linked up with Five Minute Friday. Although I did not directly write on today’s word prompt of WHY, nor did I do it in five minutes, this is my response to the madness of the #Parkland tragedy.