Hoping To Believe Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Fragrant leaves burning upward in white smoke,
holding hands with prayer flags, watching for
some signs.

Dirt lanes, walking along sewage drains,
tubercculosis running rampant as people lie
dying, death waiting for them, taking them home.

Hiding behind masks, afraid of infecting those
around, Nuns holding bottles of vitamins, unsure
of what is within them.

Elderly lie forgotten in a home, one bedpan to
share, one sheet to fold.

Schoolrooms standing bare, children searching for
an education, hoping to dare to believe.

Placed upon a bed, holding a blanket tightly in
his hands, tuberculosis has wrought it's evil
magic once again.

Works of art, escaping from within a trapped and
beaten down, unrealized culture.