I wrote this 3 years ago after Seamus Heaney died.
It’s about Syria…unbelievable that the conflict is no nearer ending now.
A Western Wind Blows
by Tara Stych
The time has come for Heaney
The planting of many seeds
Nurturing and nourishing
Hearts and minds and souls,
Roots dug deep.
Never to be blown away.
But where the Western wind blows East,
A destructive digging descends.
Measure, probe the depths,
The earth’s bleeding gashes and wounds.
Plants ripped from roots.
Petals burnt, blistered.
And a Western wind blows,
Not seeking to rock and sooth,
But to spin a tornado
Crashing, crushing, destroying.
Or are silent.
Yet the Western wind follows the path
Dug by the generations before.
The Western wind will not bend away.
Will not allow the sun through.
The beautiful, warm, nurturing sun.
Again the old lie:
Dulce et Decorum est