Plea

Dedicated and inspired by the victims of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, my homeland.

Tomorrow
they’ll attempt to find You
desperately,
as if
You could ever be lost.
They’ll endeavor
to search for You in pews,
upon pulpits,
earnestly gazing in stoic faces
of statues to ask You if
You’re still here,
if You still walk
amongst the living,
if You still hear
the muffled cries
‘neath the rubble,
if Your arms
are too short to save,
if Your heart
still bleeds love
to rescue
Your children.

Death
has no more cells
to claim us,
its body
has been baptized
with our blood.
This ground, your demesne
has no more catacombs
to entomb us.
Our limbs
are sewn in the heat.
Our bodies
are strewn in the streets
like the rubbish, the waste,
leftovers of holidays
waiting
to be remembered
by You.

Our hope
is dwindling daily;
the quake
has left us raw,
bare,
and torn,
but has made us one;
grieving and heaving
like reeds in the wind
we’re in unison,
praying to the skies
to cradle us,
to whisper peace
in dialects of wind.

Please resurrect
our ruins;
do not island us off
in your memories,
for these waves
still lap at our weakness,
please, have mercy
lest we perish,
have mercy.

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