A poem for Remembrance Sunday
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
crushed
beneath countless
regulation boots
the heady fragrance
of opium
obliterated
by the stench
of death
trapped in never-ending
mud drenched
trenches
the crimson blood
of countless soldiers
trickling
staining
the ground
unfulfilled life flowing
back to earth
this is my body…
this is my blood…
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
lovingly placed
on cold, marble
cenotaph steps
memories
of countless
fallen comrades
stories told
in the fear
and biting cold
of a long night watch
faded, dog-eared
photographs of children
and rationed extravagance
of hurriedly planned
wedding days
laughter dulling
the constant thud
of distant shells
this is my body…
this is my blood…
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
crushed
into reddish-brown
floral juice
their heavy scent
dulling the pain
an analgesic
to the never-ending
nightmare
of remembering
the narcotic
opiate
that allows us
the blissful relief of the sleep
we so narrowly escaped
the opium
that allows others
to carry on living
forgetting
this is my body…
this is my blood…
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
fragrancing
a ramshackle garden
of olive trees
and gnarled vines
the coolness
of a tomb
carved into the rock
the balmy air
of a festival evening
blood marked doorways
an indication of
the angel of death
passing over
tears of blood
fall in anguish
the cup of suffering
overflowing
not my will but yours
this is my body…
this is my blood…
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
crushed
dust to dust
ashes to ashes
fertilising
enriching the soil
the dormancy
of winter
stirred
seed shells cracking
soft white shoots
reaching for the sun
chlorophyll greening
as the first radiance
of light kisses life
the wheat grows
defiant and swollen
the grapes hang
heavy with juice
this is my body…
this is my blood…
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
reminding us
of the blood shed
and violence
of human life
Poppies fall
like ashen tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
reminding us
of promises made
that never again
shall the world go to war
Poppies fall
like crimson tears
raining from the sky
fragile petals
beauty from brokenness
new life from death
community from disunity
the possibility of heaven from hell.