Incantations

She stood at his tombstone

In a shaky ancient voice

Conjuring spells at the warmonger's

Thirst for innocence

'No more hot sperms of death'

She chanted over and over...

Tears streaming down leathery cheeks

An extraordinary sadness descended

From the clouds hanging low

Like a pregnant uterus...

It's water at the threshold of breaking

Dry bleached greys , once chorophyll

Green canopies swayed in rhythm

Of her respondent incantations...

I listened

Hung on her every word

From a land at light's first breath,

Where hands of time rebirthed days

Winter's blankets huddling tight

I listened wrapt

Hoping to find my own voice

In pleas and cries

Wept in another's throat.