Mama, What Is War? Poem by Bobbi MillerMoro

As I listen to my children fight, I stop and think,
where did they get this from?

Are we not all one people?

Why do mommies and daddies fight?
And neighbors harming one another?

Why does there have to be religion to divide?
I don’t think I can ever get used to the pain of war.
The suffering of hurt and pain inflicted on one another.

Imagine a world of peace, where we all love and accept each other?
Where different color of skin makes no difference,
and a different view point only means difference.

Where siblings do not fight each other
and hurt each other.

I looked into her eyes,
clean from the absence of war.
“mama, what is war? ”

I could not speak,
My heart soft with the power I hold
to give a four year old the continuing passage of
generations before me, to know war.

She knows fighting from me. I know fighting from them.
And they know fighting from the rest of them.
But, I can stop it now.

She is the future that needs not know what war is.
She can create peace, and tolerance and love and acceptance.

“We can heal this Nation, and repair this world” ~Obama

Yes, We can.

_______________________________

Nov.1,2008
Porter Ranch, Ca