Friday, April 19, 2013


My prayers tonight as I light the sabbath candles are with the people of Boston.  I was going to do my weekly post today with my progress on the last painting, but I will wait until I have done more on it. It is almost done.  Instead I am posting an old poem (from approx. 20 years ago).  I thought of it when I heard that the terrorists were originally from Chechnya.  It is so sad that we have achieved so much in medical advances, computers and knowledge of many things, but so little in the world of hate that is out there.

a world of war

do they dream of peace?
the children of Michael and Moira. . .
their mothers join hands
marching for peace
praying to the same God
in different churches

who fills their sons' hearts with hate
when Jesus preached love,
who teaches them to make bombs
to shoot and kill their neighbors?

do they dream of peace?
the children of Yaakov and Yael . . .
are they afraid to ride the bus?
do they look at each man with a keffiyah
and see a terrorist inside
or can they see a father,
husband, grandfather?

do they know that the woman behind the veil
changes diapers, reads stories and
bakes treats for her children too,
or do they think she is the mother
of the next suicide bomber?

and what of the children of Bosnia,
Serbia, Croatia . . .
they have no fathers now
living in primitive conditions
their mothers grow old
long before their time

the slaughter goes on
in Rwanda, Sri Lanka, Chechnya
the streets of Brazil
the inner cities of America

we take our freedom for granted
we who live in peace
but it is the children who are the future
the children who dream of peace
but live in fear and despair
the children who learn to hate
the children who grow up
to make bombs
the scars from childhood never healed
the children who dream of peace
but live in a world of war

©2002 Linda H. Feinberg
from "Gathering the Sparks" chapbook
This chapbook is currently out of print, but a PDF file is available for download.
Contact me for more information.

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