December 2nd
Preternatural darkness at lunch time today,
light draining from the sky over Sherwood Forest,
a brooding atmosphere of foreboding beneath the mist.
We wait.
Winter's darkness over Parliament this evening
as they vote to bomb the region near Raqqa
and a panicy chill grips Syrian stomachs.
They wait.
Moonlit darkness tonight as they set out to drop bombs
that kill some, half-kill others,
randomly condemning to life blighted by pain.
London and Paris wait.
It will be dark when terrorists come again
directing violence, refuelled by atrocity,
against people in whose name bombs were dropped.
The world waits.
Is it to be never-ending darkness?
Unrelieved by peacemaker or diplomat,
failing, year by year, to bring consolation
to devastated souls plunged into an abyss
of chaos and maddening grief?
Whom does it serve
when we bomb innocents into a crater
where night consumes day without end?
This cavernous hell isn't British or Syrian or French
or Muslim or Christian or Russian or secular.
It's the dark cauldron of swirling evil.
Give it a stir! In the name of 'good',
in the name of 'right', in the name of the bomb
and 'with Britain's place at the table secured',
give it a stir before the foul brew can settle
and reveal a new humanity
bubbling to the surface
as Arab and Briton discover we are united
in fear for our children's security.
© Janet Henderson 2nd December 2015
Written on the day of the British parliamentary vote on air strikes against ISIS in Syria, just after the result was announced. I hope the sardonic irony of the last verse comes through.
light draining from the sky over Sherwood Forest,
a brooding atmosphere of foreboding beneath the mist.
We wait.
Winter's darkness over Parliament this evening
as they vote to bomb the region near Raqqa
and a panicy chill grips Syrian stomachs.
They wait.
Moonlit darkness tonight as they set out to drop bombs
that kill some, half-kill others,
randomly condemning to life blighted by pain.
London and Paris wait.
It will be dark when terrorists come again
directing violence, refuelled by atrocity,
against people in whose name bombs were dropped.
The world waits.
Is it to be never-ending darkness?
Unrelieved by peacemaker or diplomat,
failing, year by year, to bring consolation
to devastated souls plunged into an abyss
of chaos and maddening grief?
Whom does it serve
when we bomb innocents into a crater
where night consumes day without end?
This cavernous hell isn't British or Syrian or French
or Muslim or Christian or Russian or secular.
It's the dark cauldron of swirling evil.
Give it a stir! In the name of 'good',
in the name of 'right', in the name of the bomb
and 'with Britain's place at the table secured',
give it a stir before the foul brew can settle
and reveal a new humanity
bubbling to the surface
as Arab and Briton discover we are united
in fear for our children's security.
© Janet Henderson 2nd December 2015
Written on the day of the British parliamentary vote on air strikes against ISIS in Syria, just after the result was announced. I hope the sardonic irony of the last verse comes through.
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