Adrift In the Cradle
My, the frightfully threatening roll
of the foreign tongue
inexplicable, rapid fire
shrapnel to the unaccustomed ear
proceeding, ever forward
in an unintelligible tirade.
Ears ache for understanding
Eyes strain for common ground
no single sigil or symbol recognizable.
My Lord, to be so alone, so lost
so must we journey, infants all,
landing without fan fair
on distant shores, seeking only
love and acceptance.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010
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