До Свидания #7

Crossroads

by

Amitakh Stanford

12th July 2010

Begins the bell to toll
In answer to the wailing song.
The “all-seeing-eye” stands behind Lincoln at Ford's Theatre,
Dictated by the call of the woman
Who wanted to hamper peace between North and South.
Though she is long gone,
The same ghost behind the “all-seeing-eye”
Plots to bring down the New World from within

The winds of change will sweep
Through the olive trees in Palestine.
With eyes wide, watching mysteries unfold,
And surprise victory for the besieged.
As the mighty fall,
Vivid impressions of their refugees in thirst and hunger
As they drag their children behind them,
Not knowing when they will perish from exhaustion, dehydration and disease.

When the water's edge advances
And the ground is totally saturated,
People will start to awaken – and to panic

Quietism, quietism,
Where is your place
For the weary hearts
And tired bones?

The fault lines throw their tantrums.
Many are left desolated, in ruins.
When the drums echo in the distance,
The buffaloes will be ready
For their journey home

One last dance
One last salute
One last song
Then, До Свидания

Al-Nakba, al-Nakba
That is the fate of many countries.

© 2010 Amitakh Stanford