(after Sukirtharani)
Not for those that drop the bombs
from the protected fortress of their selves
But for those devasted
that every town is a hometown,
all people are kin.
from the protected fortress of their selves
But for those devasted
that every town is a hometown,
all people are kin.
Anyone may do anything
in confidence, in empowerment
in the pursuit of happiness.
And so it has been.
in confidence, in empowerment
in the pursuit of happiness.
And so it has been.
Sukirtharani calls to the bloodied
Buddha, sheltering in refugee camps
home among kin.
The imagery in this poem has left me speechless. May Sukitharani’s call evoke quiet heartfelt action in every being.
ReplyDeleteThere's such soothing calm in this, Anannya, in spite of the despondency. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is beautifully stirring as usual, but I also learned about Sukirtharani just now, from this.
ReplyDeleteThis is heartbreaking at one level but also, beautiful. All people are (and should be) kin.
ReplyDelete<3
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