Feed the birds

You would not treat so lightly a helpless little stray,

a fledgling, small and fragile, got lost upon its way,

you would not think to shut the door and close the poor mite out,

but serve the milk of kindness, of that there is no doubt.

You would not give a second glance to second best, or less,

or pause the while and contemplate why you are safely kept,

as warm and wrapped within your world, you rarely wonder why

what is more precious formed than gold is often left to die.

Thus, still it is, the mother rocks a young child to her breast;

whose belly empty of all hope is not so equal blessed,

whose comfort grows more thin and cold with every passing day

whilst the flicker frame of conscience most looks the other way.

Whose children are these anyway? Who suffer unto him,

their every dream crushed by the hand of mankind's greatest sin;

whose eyes that held the future are now dulled for ever more,

like flotsam tossed indifferent on some cold and distant shore.

And when the night is closing, as clouds blank out the moon,

do you dream of all those little souls sent up to God too soon,

do you sleep in clearest conscience, the task considered done

and think you know the difference from what's lost and what is won.

And we ought never know again the whipcrack of the gun,

the fusing of the atom, the splitting of the sun;

but will we ever learn enough to stay the cruel hand,

or will memory fade, as it ever has, to the shifting of the sand.

Reviews

[CD Campbell]

This is brilliant. I have Kiplings whole poetic collection in one huge volume that I read at least once a day and this reminds me of him to a tee. I love Kipling! Every stanza stands out like a reverberating bugle blast. I'm wondering how long it took to write this and I am very anxious for a repeat. No pressure right? CD

[An owl on the moon]

Beautiful profound and moving. The world so often cold and cruel, and yet there is tenderness and grace that tries to lift us above the pain. May we find peace... sweet peace.

[Tom]

It is indeed an ill divided world, some are fortunate and are born with a silver spoon, sadly though, many others are born into a world of hardship and bereft of love !

A very compassionate and sobering write, ' suffer the little children '

[ANTO]

he who ignores the past is doomed ot repeat it (paraphrasing).

This one of the most eloquent poems I have read - anywhere - not just here on WC, Beccy.

I feel privileged to read it.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Agreat mix of faith, spirituality and humanity mixed in your poem.

[W.k.kortas]

Formally, it reminds of some of the popular balladeers of the late 19th/early 20th centuries, the James Whitcomb Rileys and Robert Services--but they dealt in the land of pathos and even bathos, a Currier and Ives of words. This is heartfelt, certainly, but does not descend to the realm of the weepy or maudlin. Fine, fine work.

[Woody]

sumptuous, Beccy!! just love it. and with a rhyme, to boot.
yes, I've seen it more often than not. our heart would melt at the sight of a stray kitten but we will not lift a finger to try and alleviate the pain of fellow human beings.
will memory fade?

[Gee]

A beautiful,thought provoking,free flowing poem.