Requiem of the Rising Sun: March 27

I don’t know how to pray When everyday is the same How many times do I lift my soul To tell you of the thousands of your children Dead Missing Homeless My bleeding brain, rubbed raw from hours of pleading is resigned, capitulated, ready to say God bless everyone And have done. You know what bless means. You know who everyone is. God bless everyone God bless Japan. God bless the babies crying in crowded shelters And the mothers trying to quiet them. God bless the fathers struggling to go on And the children who play in the dirt and sleep in the dark. God bless Japan. Bless the workers Looking in the rubble for breathing corpses Breathing your love into the silence. God bless the ones stopping the leak Not knowing which button to push Which cord to cut Which puddles spell death. God bless everyone who turns out a light. Those leaving, and bless those who stay With fear streaking silently down their cheeks. God bless everyone trying to remember And those trying to forget. God bless them as the scan lists of names And squeeze their broken hearts back in proud, unbreakable spirits. God bless everyone. God bless Japan.