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.