Seven
The summer I was seven
I made perfume from petals
Rode my bike down to the seaNow seven is your number
And it hasn’t been like mine
You heard parents’ whispered fears
Felt walls crumble, choking dust
Emptied wordless red goodbyes
Seeing, unseeing, fleeing
To a place that isn’t homeTonight on Beirut’s corniche
I walk hastily away
As you offer me a rose
And the thorns pierce deeper still
Girl of Sorrows/The Rose Seller
Passing the college at evensong, I go inside
Take a seat behind hushed voices
Candlelight, expectant
All Souls Day: Let us remember
He slowly recites their names
Henry, Peter, Hugh – those they’ve known and lost:
But I want to remember you
You, the child crushed as the classroom fell down, brought to rubble
You, Aleppo’s son, home and body shattered
You, daughter of Homs, caught by sniper’s fire
You, child of a mother whose weeping knows no end
Let us remember you
Earlier, a flurry of wind prompts a shower of autumn leaves
Amber-red, crimson, gold
Twirling dancing ground-wards
And now I wish I could wait here, perpetual in this stillness
And hear each of you patiently called by name
But like the leaves you are too many
Each one once created and singing its beauty now falling, dying, crushed
Let us remember
And as I remember you
I also remember him:
The one who knows each leaf, each child by name
Not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care
The one who weeps with us, and calls us:
Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin…
Let us remember
Each one that falls goes back to the heart of God
Let us remember
Empty ground, nothing left
A boy in an ambulance, a boy on the beach
Who dares to dream any more?
The lonely, the broken, the hopeless
A mother lost by chance – wrong place, wrong time
Unbreakable silence of rock and stone
Somehow you’re blessed – kingdom comfort
And a child is welcomed, a family known
Grass springs up from broken soil
Undemanding, unnoticed, underfoot
But strong, resilient, green with life –
As a child’s laughter breaks through
You’re hungry and thirsty for things to be different
Each child safe, each child known
You take them by the hand and show them grace
Grace that fills you and flows through you
And as you turn your face towards the sky
Mercy falls and makes things new
As you make things new for the child who had no one
You are her someone
Pure heart – you shine with a light you know now
more intimately in this darkness
Light that fills you and each space you move in
And the space you’ve created for the child who was lost
And suddenly in this ‘hopeless’ place
Beauty springs up, unexpected, unasked for
Blessed are the peacemakers, heralding the birth of something new
You who welcome children – the children of God.
Illustrations created with Syrian caregivers working with children in conflict-affected areas of Syria
kezia here and there 