Hibah Shabkhez Poet Rhyme

Wilderness

‘Angered seasons have ere now’, creak the bones
 Of the old, ‘laid cities to waste. Now time
Will uproot from our earth the enraged stones
     And heap them upon our heads’. But the grime

Of their dreads leaves the young unmoved and sure
In changing with the changings of the free
World to find  horizons broader and more
     Alluring. This time's different. It's Me.

My land is dying, street by crumbling street.
'This used to be ...’ and ‘Here we used to have ...’
I moan, and children flung ere it was meet
     From this their cocoon, cannot laugh and brave

With their mocking ‘You should write a memoir’ 
This blitz of reminiscence. Their mute nods
Mourn one more thing swallowed up by the war:
     Youth and old age dueling with time’s rods.

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Beata Agustin April 7, 2022 at 11:30 PM Thanks for sharing this. May I share with you the love of God expressed in John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” God bless you.