unmoved

the cyclone in burma is catastrophic, terrifying
yet – confession – i hardly seem moved at all

and i can’t decide if it’s because i have no words to say,
if i’m in denial,
if i just don’t have the energy to be moved

or if it’s indelicate to look face on
at those who have spent lifetimes
in search of dignity and wholeness
and who have been stripped of it again.

so if i were to go to church on sunday
[which i won’t]
and if i were to pray
[which, sadly, i don’t]

it would be to find the passion to care…
to move beyond the figures that my mind
can’t comprehend
[22 000… 50 000… 100 000…]

and to recognise
that each one of those people
is someone
the world
couldn’t do
without.

and then, in the writing of that, comes this…

how can i honour those who died
who have no-one left alive
to grieve them
miss them
remember them…