Pieta
Pieta
By Beate Sigriddaughter
I.
A woman at work solicits paperbacks
for our soldiers, especially action/suspense.
I feel for her, wanting to help, yet
here I sit trapped in my white marble grief
for our sons that are always so broken.
Often it feels we lose our men
long before they enlist in their dreams
of glory that we haven't healed
in more than ten thousand years.
II.
In Papua New Guinea women make a pact
to slay their male babies, as there seems
to be no other way to stop a brutal war
of already far too many generations.
At this point men in the west are crying "murder."
Would you rather wait till they all grow up
and kill each other properly then?
III.
In Israel they are willing to imprison
high school kids who do not want to
kill and do not want to die.
IV.
You say it is too difficult to simply withdraw
and let go of righteous dreams.
You say I don't understand the staggering
complexities.
Do you believe that it is easier to simply die?
V.
Come home, my love, and live.
I want you in the fields beside me,
not huddling in far-away trenches. I want you
to climb with me the narrow path toward
intelligence with its dangerous cliffs
and its breathtaking vistas.
I don't want you on my lap,
broken for any reason.
Come home, my son, my brother,
my father, my husband.
Come home, my love, and live.
Named poet laureate of Silver City, New Mexico (Land of Enchantment) in 2017, Beate Sigriddaughter grew up in Nürnberg, Germany, where she began her trajectory of enchantment a five-minute walk from the castle. Alternate playgrounds were World War II bomb ruins. She has also lived in Ireland, Lesotho, and Canada. Her work has received several Pushcart Prize nominations and a handful of poetry awards. Her keen interest in women's status in the world led her to create the blog Writing In A Woman's Voice where she publishes other women's writing. http://sigriddaughter.com/
“Pieta” was first published by Poets Against War Canada