Haiti Poem by David Taylor

Twisted broken rubble with layers of dust
dampened by the stench of death,
the reality of someone’s child,
lonely, frightened, crushed with pain,
in non-comprehension of their fate.
Fear and pain, fear and pain.

And our minds cannot encompass such a reality,
too far beyond our experience.
We minimise it to a personal test of faith,
and if we had no faith,
just gratitude it is not I
that lies in such a state.

If the truth is known,
do we then lie in that same place?
Our home now an impending tomb
as rescue teams fly to honor grace.
Was it not ever so, as each day
about our business we blindly go,
and only now through such a distant,
devastating blow,
we look truth in the face
and then ask so much more of faith?

Where are faith’s sisters now?
Hope and love must move the Earth
without delay,
for Heaven’s sake, for Heaven’s sake,
in our non-comprehension of their fate;
hope and love, may we now deliver grace?
We fear too late,
we fear too late….