NO CRY ZONE

Another morning when tears overcome words,

and grief buries deeper with each breath.

Each breath a bonus for those of us

not being shelled, shot or bombed to death.

Bullies have breached the constraints

put in place for decades as a restraint

on their worst evils which now cross borders

bringing fear, chaos and disorder.

I weep in the face of Ukrainian faces distorted

by anxiety, terror, confusion and disbelief;

suffering while begging for help, contorted

in pleading and nobility of spirit, 

brave faces on a brave people insisting

we join with equal courage their effort to persist

in the face of evil based on lies

which twist the story 

of a war threatening Russia’s former glory.

And we who hear these pleas seem too fearful to reply,

to breathe deep enough

to reach high enough

to push hard enough

to save Ukraine

and ourselves.

What we are told to justify holding our breath

must be far worse than we can imagine,

bad enough to keep planes and pilots grounded

as those on the ground in Ukraine are pounded;

as we watch with breath catching and hitching 

in tearful wonder at Ukrainian bravery.

I want to fly, not cry. 

I want to spread angels wings

across the sky.

I want to stop Ukraine’s suffering.

I want a no cry zone for Ukraine.

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