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