pound the stones to shape the graves of soldiers fallen
the war of gun-less fight, of plight of their minds
a blink of lapsed freedom and hope
the slayed faith that a night will turn into a prosperous day
that they can walk with pride and sense of worth
a value not traded for pennies or lost at a bargain
waged with an empty hand
give them a reason and time to heal and grow
the patience you exude, the ear you share
might be a basket all they need is to replenish, fill

pound the stones to shape the graves of soldiers fallen
shaken
they are the birds diving into another spin
another gain
stick together, be the guide when they cannot lead
when they cannot tell the difference between black and charcoal grey
the colour muted and all the same
lift them with being still, with being present
an answered receiver

jacob.greb
19.0715.2235