The Ruins of Bethlehem

What my ancestors saw spared by the light

of too many broken windows, dead harvests,

and barriers to living, they called, simply, Hope.

The lucky ones put into steamer trunks

everything they thought that one might need,

and they went on journeys of thousands

of miles (the unlucky ones did not, alas

choose their fate- it was chosen for them).

They came to a new land and they built

immense vaulted structures and they hung

art and tapestries in their great halls,

giving Life to the Hope they had come

with, or found along the way. One way or

another, we were all descended from

architects and dreamers and working hands.

 

Likewise, my heroes have created libraries

filled with great tomes, repositories of

wisdom and lessons about failure, towering

into the minds and conscience of us

mere mortals. We need each other because

no one person ever had all of the answers.

Even the ancient gods look to our philosophers

for ethics advice, or our scientists to figure

out how the atom could serve humankind,

and vice-versa. One way or another, our

culture is descended from thinkers and

writers and hundreds of generations of

multinational artists.

 

This is what you are the steward of, this

is what we entrusted you to protect. What

disgust can I possibly express that your

followers would not ridicule me for? You

are like a rabid skunk spraying foulness

and poisonous saliva in the beautiful halls

of Hope that my ancestors carved with

their tools using a vision from each of our

original homelands. You are an ignorant

censor armed with matches and gasoline

that Kali-ma let loose upon our greatest

libraries, a destroyer of Truth and Beauty

and Hope that we all cultivated for centuries.

 

Our own children will have a new legacy:

that of the beast that came slouching from

the ruins of Bethlehem.

 

Author's Note

Last line is an homage to Yeats "The Second Coming."

translated from original in Spanish. picture is an open source artwork related to the Yeats poem referenced

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

amazing write, i love it,thanks for entering my losing faith contest, julie

[kentuck14]

Marie,
A chilling poem . . . but so beautiful a history you tell.
J. Barzun has said history results from a mixture of character and circumstance.
This makes for a dangerous world.
Thanks for sharing.