“as it were great drops of blood…”

It was at Nain
you met the widow accompanying
her dead and only son.

It is in Gaza
that like a spinning whirlwind
there passed before you
the death-scarred father
holding the slaughtered body
of his infant child
an open wound where the face should be,
gushing blood.

In the same land, the same country...
In the same place where you commanded:
“Put up thy sword into the sheath”.
But for over twenty centuries
no one has paid attention to Your voice.

And we, who say
we worship You and love You
cannot even see those drops of blood
which slowly rolling down Your face
fall, and write upon the ground:

“I know not what thou sayest;
what is this worship and this love
you speak to me of.

17 Jun. 2004