Tears For Angels

A little girl cried out
First for friendship, attention
Then in shame, begging for help
Understanding, forgiveness.
She was greeted
With derision and scorn,
Humiliation and laughter.
Did you see it?
I did.
Too late.

Another brave child,
Across the world
Dares to look for a better life.
Asks for peace and love
And learning.
Speaking out against violent oppressors.
So much stronger than her years.
Lies in a hospital bed
Shot.
For opening her mouth.
Did you hear?
I did.
I pray for her survival
And safety.

A baby,
Not even three
Beaten,
Then glued to a wall
For failing to understand
And follow rules.
She was
Too young to comprehend.
Maimed, disfigured
By the person sworn
To love and protect her.
Did you feel it?
I did.
Anguish.

My heart bleeds
For these precious gifts,
These angels,
Tossed away
Like rubbish.
It’s so tempting to wonder
Where is God?
Then I know…
He’s in the hearts
Of you and me
When we feel
And cry
And grieve…
Wishing we could do more.
It’s time to break silence
To heal hearts.
To love.
Boldly.
Regardless of consequences.
Our words and actions
The gifts he gives
To honor
Damaged hearts and souls.
Speak out!

These last couple of weeks have just been heart rending. On the news, on the internet…stories of yet one more innocent child lost or damaged Like I read on Nick’s Blog and Patricia Sands’ Blog along with so many others. Then I discovered Justine Musk and her blog touting the importance of following our dreams. Overall I felt pretty good, because that’s what I’ve been doing the last few months. I’ve been following my dreams. Writing. I haven’t shared my project with you guys yet because it’s not done yet. In the meantime, I share my writing with you guys through my poetry and work on sharpening my tools and my mind through my blog.

It was actually through the discovery of Justine’s blog that drew me to this time, this blog. I’d recently started following Marcia Richards’ blog after I’d discovered her through our Letter game blogs. In her blog she asked about what we were like at 14. Looking back I remembered I dreamed of being a neurosurgeon (this dream died a rapid death when I got to biology class and became bored 20 minutes into our frog dissection…don’t think that would translate well in brain surgery). I was a tomboy who still played tackle football with the boys in the neighborhood…and a die hard flirt. In fact, I’d been voted class flirt 3 years straight and was also voted most likely to be president. Back then I was madly in love with poetry….and a different guy every other week, LOL! But the thing was, all someone had to do was give me a subject or tell me how they were feeling and I was able to convert it into poetry. Like I said, boys came and went, but not my love for writing and poetry. That’s been an abiding love.

So when Marcia challenged me that with the right words, in the right venue, I could make a difference I thought about those words. I slept on them…and woke up in tears because I knew what I had to say, but didn’t know if I’d have words strong enough to take on this task. All I could do was try. I already had a song that filled my head last night. I knew what I needed to write about. It was practically slapping me in the face!

There is so much hurt in the world right now. So many people mistreated. Not accepted. Maybe it’s for the color of their skin. Their beliefs. Their sexual orientation. Past mistakes. Or maybe they’ve done nothing at all. I’m not a preachy person. But how could I not talk about love and not bring up God. Seriously. As I thought about this, I just pictured him looking down on this once perfect world he created and crying. I pictured those poor girls and prayed that he had angels standing on both sides of them, with their wings stretched out…shielding them, protecting them from any more pain or hurt or anguish. I felt like the message he was sending to me was a plea for love and forgiveness and acceptance…and for these poor children to know that they are not alone. We hurt for them. We accept them. We feel their pain and grief and despair. For the one little girl who is gone (along with many more who have not gotten the media coverage that she has)…they are not forgotten.

What about you? What do you believe? What’s been pressing on your heart? As one of my favorite romance authors, Julie Garwood, wrote in her book The Secret “One whisper, added to a thousand others, becomes a roar of discontent”. You can be the difference you want to see in this world. Are you up to the challenge? Tell me what you think!

I’ll leave you with that thought and this song: