Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorrow. Show all posts

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Aftermath

sorrow Pictures, Images and Photos

We have witnessed sorrow and it will not go away.
We have felt it in our veins and it is everywhere.
The world still reels in shock from September 11.
Like an earthquake, tremors ripple in our consciousness.
Vivid dreams of that fateful day replace our silent slumber.
Threats come and go and every time we think it’s over
terror strikes again in one form or another.
Here, there, everywhere, the world is shaking
and we are standing at attention, waiting for the next wave.

Life, for many, is changed forever.
We no longer play the games of little children,
sitting safely in our huts, for we are far more fragile
than we want to know.

The Center of the Bull’s Eye,
arrows point at us from furtive nations
and we see their plots in every morning’s news.
Like a sitting duck, we wait for the unknown,
as the ground beneath us trembles.
Oceans that once kept us safe and separate,
no longer fill their duty. . . .
bandwidths have replaced our bridges.
The enemy lives within our borders and computers
And our boundaries are no longer clear.

In spite of this reality,
we are still a nation of heart and compassion,
a nation of faith and great blessings.
We have always been a haven for the oppressed
and our streets are speckled with every race, color and creed.
Our doors and ports were always open
and for this we’ve paid the price.
Even our dirty laundry flies at the wind in daylight.
Perfect . . . we are certainly not. All loving . . . we wish we could be.
All forgiving . . . we have a long way to go.
But in God our trust lies and in our spirit is the freedom to grow and learn
what it takes to be truly human.
Peace is a dream we’ll never see in our lifetime or any other,
But it’s the striving for it . . . that will change the world.


Joanne Cucinello 2002

Thursday, October 8, 2009

No Season for Peace

Photobucket

In every time, in every
season
wherever there is
breath
the same wars continue . . .

Young men fight to protect~
old men wave their fists
Women cry to heaven "Why?!!"
Missing limbs lay
scattered on the
bloody fields
crying . . .
"Don't leave me!"

Medals turn to rust
in dusty closets
undisturbed small tokens
of remembrance for the brave
who wake at night
in terror still.

Few have pity
when the gun points
and so the Earthly Mother,
rocks her orphans
one more time . . . one more time.

Mercy . . . Mercy
cry the stars!

Joanne Cucinello 2009

Business Directory for Port Jefferson, NY

Business Directory for Port Jefferson, NY
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