Why Do You Cry, Mother?
She
birthed
them
both;
dark
hair,
dark
eyes,
a
joy
to
any
father
She
watched
as
they played
together
building
castles
in
the
sand
playing
innocently,
but
sometimes
(as
children
are
wont to
be)
exasperating
as
time
grew
between
them
stones
grew
where
once
there
were
eyes
and
moss
covered
their
tongues
further
than
far
and
stranger
than
strange
the
brothers
grew.
they
no
longer
spoke
their
moss-covered
tongues
sounded
differently
now
than
when
they
were
young
their
castles
defended
by
moats
filled
with
bloody
broken
promises
unable
to
speak
the
peace,
their
moss-covered
tongues
distort
the
words;
The
adversary
between
them
uses
mortars
of
hate as
building
blocks
making
larger
castles
with
higher
walls
and
with
stones
where
their
ayes
once
were
and
tongues
covered
with
moss
the
entreaties
of
the dead
and
dying
go
unheeded
their
mother
birthed
them
both,
with dark
hair
and dark
eyes
any
father would
be
proud
now
they
are
like the
grains
of
sand
stones
where
there
eyes
once
were
tongues
covered
in
moss
when
they
speak,
the
shrieks
drown
out
their
words
and
the
adversary
gains
new
soldiers
and
little
children
reach
back
chasing
their
innocence
back
to
peace
of
being
soon
not
later
we
will
pay
for
what
we
have
done
A
mother
cries
out
a
father
rends
his
garments
their
children
are
dying
everyday
and
the
adversary
with
a
knowing
smile
slinks
through
the
underbrush
and
preaches
from
the
temple\
the
minaret
the
pulpit
a
mother
birthed
them
a
proud
father
blessed
them
but
stones
grew
where
once
their
eyes
were’
their
tongues
once
sang
odes
to joy;
songs
of
celebration;
now
covered
in
moss
sing
no more
their
eyes
gleam
no
more
the
wonder
of
being, the
lantern
of
life,
slowly
dimming
the
adversary
smiles
knowing
that
soon
he
shall
add
to
his
horde.
©
Ramón Piñero
