Facedown

Facedown

(“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” Ezekiel 36:26)

Bodies barely breathing,
others deceasing,
the river rising just within view.
The sun baked them and
the wind raked them as they
tested the cracks and mud
for the best way to freedom.

Bodies breathly praying,
others decaying
facedown in the river within view.
A father-and-daughter refugee, metered,
and turned away at the bridge of freedom.

Bodies breathless hugging,
others shrugging
as if the penalty for suffering is
a locked door, and stone fence,
a steel wall and granite hearts
of people who say they follow…

I cannot write it, the NAME, not when
those who carry it lie facedown, just two
turnstiles away from home turned to
hopeless sludge.

A father’s heart breaking,
a daughter embracing
for dear life as they waded the banks
of the Rio Grande.
What were their final thoughts as the river
pulled them down? How do you swim
with arms circled around the little gift,
the girl on your shoulders,
the girl with tiny fingers,
the girl who held your hand
when her eyes were question marks.
The girl who smiled when you mentioned America,
the girl who heard every cricket, saw every bird,
and with burned feet still loved the sand between her toes.

Facedown.

What apologies will we give,
what reparations? Life for a life?

Sit with me, America, on the banks of the Rio Grande,
wordless please, and hear the cry of children who made it
alive. And mourn the future and past,
mourn the dead, and exchange your granite for
arms that rescue the foreigner
before we are forced to mourn again.