Poem: Untitled Poem 3

Brother, my heart flew to you

when violence tore your land

and our hearts.

My soul joined you

before my eyes ever saw your face

or read your words;

before my ears

heard your voice.

In my ignorance,

I tried joining my anger

with the rising tide of rage

against the children,

sons and daughters of our nations

dying and fighting,

my brothers and sisters in ignorance.

With no teacher,

just anger like a torch guiding us,

we learned to hate ourselves.

Your brothers, sisters, students—

burning like eternal candle flames

in a cosmic vigil for peace—

tried to light our way.

With no teacher,

it fed our rage.

I discovered myself

in the part of you that is me.

I touch deeply

the poetry within my heart

and find you there.

I eat your words,

sweet like fruit,

bursting in my mouth and in my heart.

I look deeply into the fruit

and find my own words

and eternity.

I hold your life close to my heart

and find the source of compassion

in my life at last.

Rosanne Azarian

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