I do not know
what you hope to achieve
by what you do.
How can you create anything
except more sadness, loss, grieving and despair.
I do not understand
what fruit can grow on trees
so laden with pain and hate.
I cannot see the merit
in laying down your life,
not for others
but to take as many as you can
with you into the terrible jaws of death;
to be swallowed up
on the evening news,
and then forgotten about in a few weeks time
by all but the loved ones of those lost.
I cannot grasp
your short term goals,
your long term goals,
your hopes for the future
when they seem darkly shrouded
even from your sight.
I see the figure
of a elderly French priest
kneeling in his church
whispering Father forgive them
for they know not what they do.
I do not fathom
how acts of horror and destruction
can seem by rapid repetition
commonplace and familiar.
It is beyond me
to comprehend your actions.
I see another person
made in the image of God
intended to live life in all its fullness.
A fellow human being
somehow fractured,
striving by any means
to bring death on earth.
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