More grub for curious, careless whispers.
But this one is not a cold, indifferent statistic;
no longer an impersonal, invisible war.
It has now claimed familiar soldiers.
It bears a friendly face;
with an unscheduled goodbye…
It triggers sudden races to recall lost moments,
last conversations, and postponed plans.
Where are the warriors as this battle rages on?
Are they negotiating our surrender or fighting the good fight
for those who stay behind to hang more pearls
to the strings of tears growing in halls of pain?
Where are the folks like us who we knew personally, intimately?
Where are the faces who made memories, knew dreams, and brimmed with liv?
Maybe, in time,
we can regroup and recover special moments.
Maybe in time,
when the tears finally settle;
they’ll submerge and soothe the scars in baths of healing
from which sullen spirits soar.
Perhaps with time,
hearts are revived and hardened until they mend.
And even stubborn pain,
no matter how deep – morphs naturally into the mind’s woodwork.
Perhaps in time,
we might learn to live without cherished memories for company.
Maybe, in time
we might recover, even without quite knowing
if we are whole or just residual patchworks
of embroidered nuances contrived to appease our soul’s doubts.
Until that moment;
should our emotional firewall hold;
and we can beat anguish
into protective shields and ploughshares,
let’s spare a moment
for those faces without names
they too were faces that hit close to home…