dreams and aspirations

my daily moments are filled with aspirations

Nature’s stimuli and thoughts of tomorrows
titillated by music, by the waft of flowers,
the morning’s feather choir and exhilarating sunsets
in my life
 
yet i reflect upon the children whose tomorrows
are not theirs as they sit atop Sinjar mountain air,
hunger no longer an exigent need even though
days have passed without food or water

cold has been their breath of night and stars

the only light. cries of pain are muffled by mothers
hand to silence the echoes in caverns that
now even mountain goats decry
 
all, fear the guns of predators who care little
about life and hunt them as game so they sit
cold, mute and afraid wondering if the souls of their
love ones left behind in a stench of aridity,
will they ascend in dignity, to their god
 
i turn and toss in between fresh bed sheets
soft pillows with my love ones next to me
dreaming of the days journey and my tomorrows
whilst the unsuspected cravings but for a crumb
or warmth of shelter is the moaning call of a family
just around the corner from where we lay our heads
 

a mother waling over the body of her son as he lay

on a street in Ferguson where the blood of intolerance, bigotry

racism flows rampant. and a pungent smell of diesel fuel

and black smoke cloud the light of night lanterns

on buses crammed with discomfit children corralled and

being returned to their abusers they sacrificed to escape,

now unwanted by a nation that sings to them its praises

of ‘... give us your hungry and your down trodden’

 
i lay awake and pray to a god I now don’t believe in
yet I ask that the hungry get food and the frightened
find shelter,  that the mothers tears get comforted
and find ameliorative tolerance for her other children
so they may find a place to lay down in warmth
and  their wishes and hopes at least in dreams
will be filled with aspirations in their tomorrows