We crave transcendence,
yet we fear death.

We want perfection,
but discount our flaws.

A walk in the woods,
our way to enlighten.

As if we could ride,
the wings of a hawk.

We chant in our sleep,
words without sense.

Shaved heads and red robes,
us become them.

Mothers defend by
rejecting tradition.

Barbed-wired protects
our neighborhood Mosque.

We shout Hallelujah,
from mouths of deceit.

We put up walls,
when we should

Tear them down.

Susan Ward Trestrail, 2016

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s