Redemption
The ones who will redeem us for this are coming.
They are in the wombs of pregnant women parading in the streets.
They will dance the dances; they will sing the songs.
What will be the words?

We would write for them the songs,
For we, like all good parents, want easier lives for our children.
We would prepare their way but we do not know the words they must sing
We have long since forgotten them
The bombs and the guns have muted them in our memory
The innocent are digging their nails in our chest � scratching at our hearts �
Only to find the zealots have already
been there, lived there, fought there,
and left their walls behind
But they will remember them as we should have

For today, in the wombs, they are already crying.
They are singing, dancing, and listening to the beating drums of their mother�s hearts
They are wondering what life it is that must, by necessity, be so cold when theirs is so warm.
They do not understand what makes people so different when life begins so much the same.

The children, the unborn generations yet to come
Will not forget these truths because we will not let them
Or so we promise, as our ancestors promised us
They will know that dreams can be reality
So long as reality can be dreamt
And the peace we have wished for will be theirs to make
For we have failed

And the child in our heart cries not for itself but for them instead
Because our hearts already know all too well
that all the vigil candles in the world
will not
Remember the words for them

                                                                                                                    March 20, 2003
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