Bewildered by our contradicting aims

Hurt by lawless, lasting grief and pani

The image of the refugee disdained

Shows again the face within his face;

And yet he too is human in embrace Bewildered by our contradicting aims; Obey our Christ or keep our wealth to arm

We too are nervous when we read

The lies of men whom we have picked to lead 

Who has got the courage of true gaze

To see the truth and like the Christ be flayed? 

Who will risk rejection by the mass? 

Far better to avert our eyes and pass. 

No one is an island, John Donne says 

The bell that tolls informs and shows our way.

When he went away
He said,”Lehitraot,mama.”
Do vstrechi.
He died, but I’m still here
Yes,in my heart I feel his love.
But why did I live,
And he did not?
Auf wiedersehen
Lehitraot.
Yes,darling,I’ll see you later
,When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright
I’ll see you shining in the night.
I’ll see you in my dreams alas.
Do vstrechi.
But why you and not me too?
Araka
I can’t understand
.Lehitraot,beloved.
A plus tard
Some where in this world,you fell
But no-one,not even God, can tell.
God was absent then or in some other place
He’s gone again
.They said He’s died too
,But He didn’t have a mother like you.
Do vstrechi.
My breasts ache and my heart and soul,
My breasts were made to make you whole.
To feed, give love and to console.
A plus tard
And now they ache with grief as my tears fall
.A bientot
My body trembles in the night
As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight.
A plus
I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain
If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again.
Do vstrechi
.The bell rings on the ancient clock
As time goes on as normal,  never stops.
Araka
I wish the hands of time could be reversed,
And I was not living with this curse.
People forget that I once had a son.
They think my grieving has been done.
Araka.But grief and loss and pain will never end
Until the curtain of my death descends
Auf wiedersehen.
Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees
,But it’s really you my deepening insight sees.
Lehitraot.
The inscape of my heart is shown to few.
An artist of the lost would know this view.
I know I want to see just you.
Do vstrechi.
But for me there is noAuf wiedersehen
Never again will you say
What you said that day
Lehitraot,Mama.Papa
A plus tard
Tot ziens.
See you later
See you ,darling
See you soon

How can it be that he is never here?
How can it be I do not hear that voice
His presence haunts from his old ,battered chair

Though I have money and no need unbare
I feel the grief , the affect of his choice.
How can it be that he is never here?

What is the world when loss turns to despair.
When every sheet by weeping is made moist?
His presence haunts from his beloved chair

Now we learn the symbol of the hare
Unpeaceful, hunted, jugged or potted roast
How can it be that he was ever here?

Into the real we stand and long time stare
We’re begging, blaming,badgered and then gassed
His presence feints with ours in death’s own lairs

Now the world of man has long surpassed
The time we could blame God for what we‘ve missed
How can it be that He is never here?
His absence haunts , symbolic , suffered, real

There was a young lady in Ealing.

Who slept upside down on the ceiling

She said, if I fall out 

I’ll get quite a clout

In the meantime the floor has been healing.

Does gravity not affect women?

And that is just the beginning

Their verses don’t rhyme

Their clocks have no chimes

And that is the least of their sinning.

For no mother is perfectly good

None ever do all they could

We’ve all known the pain

And given them the blame.

Then there’s war and the shedding of blood.

Why do we all want more stuff ?

I am speaking now quite off the cuff.

To Greenland we will go to live in the snow.

For sure, we’ve never had it so rough

https://writingexplained.org/oriented-vs-orientated-difference