Monday, May 26, 2008

My brother Peace died stillborn

A powerful poem by Joe Bommarito to read on this Memorial's Day:

Beyond the count of years I walked the world,
and my children built their shrines to me.

Decades and centuries and millennia pass,
and still the shrines are built.

Temples insubstantial to men,
clear to my eyes.

No foundations or walls or roofs,
but shrines nonetheless.

Holy ground, consecrated…

Today, every day, somewhere in the world,
the earth is prepared for my coming.

Read the rest

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