Today I opened my mourning’s season.
I cried for the lack of solidarity and brotherhood,
for the existence, till today, of countries’ borders,
increasing inequalities and suffering among people;
for the estrangement among whites and blacks,
yellows and browns, Christians and Muslims;
for the rich that reach water from golden faucets
and the poor by carrying it in the buckets;
for the wine and salmon’s tables of the mansions
and the yesterday’s bread passing from hand to hand;
for the security of the politicians for the coming years
and the fear of common people for tomorrow;
for the dreams of the righteous that have not come true
and the audacity of the insolents who are not intimidated;
for my lack of faith that everything is on our Lord’s hands
and in His extreme love for us.
My tears have washed my body and eased my soul.
When I die, no need to cry more.
I have already cried for what matters, at least for me.
Published in Red Wolf Journal, November 16, 2016.
Published in Spirit Fire Review, issue 10, June 2017.