To the war orphan from her murdered parents / by Megan Hollingsworth

Daughter, we beg that you do this for us if you will. Please remain open and kind.

Do not allow this emptiness to enter your bones, for the cold of winter

can kill you. And sitting in isolation, you will starve.

Let yourself be hollowed by ignorance that others

may wash their grief in your bowl.

Stay soft that others may rest their weariness

upon your breast.

Do not be abandoned

though the world appears to abandon you.

We are with you as always

and greater gone the flesh.

Without vengeance, enjoy your living.

Smile and dance before

oblivion stalking.

Let our care for you

through you

satisfy the insatiable hunger. 

 

note: i sat this afternoon to relieve a familiar psychic ache and in keening with those gassed in Syria this poem surfaced. the psychic ache remains.