God was there

It may be hard to imagine

But amid the noise, screams, blood

God was there

Holding out his loving arms to those babies

Whose lives he could not spare

~

God was there in all of his love

Throwing up his armour

Protecting those in fear

Glowing brightly as the new born angels

Were drawn to heaven near

~

They were gently gliding into the light

If you had listened closely enough

Amongst the chaos and the fear

His whispered voice was heard

I am here, my angels, I am here

~

Those 20 tiny little angels

They heard that voice, clear as a softly chiming bell

Moving beyond our day and night

He gently released their earthly bounding

And they were enveloped in his loving light.

Advertisements

The picture

Laying in bed

A vision comes to me

My mother

standing in a bikini

~

She is not at the beach or by the pool

She is in the house

Standing by her bedroom double doors

Frowning at the camera

~

The bikini is red, white, blue

Stars and stripes forever

It may be 1976, the 200th Us birthday

She frowns at the camera

~

My father took the picture

and in the days before photoshop

He sculpted her body

With a black pen

~

He marked out the extra weight around her abdomen

Black pens marks on her arms and thighs

Scars on the picture

Reflect her suffering from her imperfections

~

She was not morbidly obese,

barely overweight, 5’6″, 140-150 pounds

And yet it was not what he wanted

So he chose to mark her up

~

Years later, a similar set of pictures

Pictures of my brother before his death

Shorts and overweight, Father encouraged him

Go off the medications, lose weight

~

Mother suffered from this critical eye

Brother dies, off his medications

And me, I shrink away because of this scarring

Fearing the marks, the shame, the fat, the padding

~

The difference is that it is easier for me

I do not hunger the same way

I love to work out and move my body

I care for my health

~

And yet I know somehow, I have been marked

The black ink fading onto me

Staining my body

Scratching my picture.

~

Call it epi-genetics

I can feel those scars across the family

The shame, the frowns, the disgust

The fear, the pain,  captured in the picture.