My 15-yr old son wrote this poem about the recent Moore Tornado:

“Silence” by Daseph Edwards
It came in late May,
A huge gulf of wind:
Invisible and mute,
It came and went.
Unknown of its being,
Unknown of its crime.
The most scary thing
I have ever seen:
A natural disaster
(which means nothing
Since all death is–
But natural).
There were pillars of every kind
Some natural, made of wood,
While others of gypsum, made by mankind,
All standing for the good.
But now the pillars have gone,
Eaten by the disaster;
Now all that the people have to lean on:
Their sisters and brothers.
In this moment
A rift is formed:
Parents apart
From their kids,
Unknowing, of their fate,
(The wind
Is torturous).
But soon by grace
They meet once again;
At the school yard
Of the broken school:
The scene explodes.
Parents fuse with
Teachers–now heroes–
Their kids,
And each other;
Giving off strong cries,
And blazing passion.
The barrier is broken, and emotions flow,
From frightened parent to worried child.
If they were uncertain–surely now they know,
How deep their parent’s love is wild.
Yet, though much chaos is present,
There is in this, much silence;
Not in the physical–but inside the parents,
Where the heart has found quiescence.
Some have died
Even more injured,
And that death toll
Will most likely rise.
Along with the voices
Of those who’ve lost,
And lost themselves.
The President
Does what he can,
And fights silence,
With silence.
He knows well
That there is victory,
In the silent face.
The biggest man in the entire country,
Yet helpless in this most trying hour.
Lifting up prayers, confessing mortality:
That not a few things are out of man’s pow’r.
We know of the processes of nature,
Why the behemoth gusts, must destroy all in its way,
But emerging upon it, all we can but utter:
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.”
We can’t explain it:
The wind is still
It knows nothing
Knows no one
And destroys,
Still yet in this,
Yes even in this
Mass destruction–
Is creation birthed:
The hills, the peaks,
Are all eroded,
And the earth is made flat.
Ground zero, where all are made even,
Where a revelation is birthed:
That titles, ranks, and class are inventions,
And that we all stand upon the same earth.
We cry at the same images and scenes,
For a while, we’re are all one,
Coming to heal our country’s broken seam,
Working together under one mighty sun.
It came in late May
A huge gulf of wind:
Invisible and mute,
It came and went.
Unknown of its being,
Unknown of its crime.
The most scary thing
I have ever seen:
A disaster
(Thou maybe not
That horrid
Or that evil).
There were pillars, high and classical,
But it reminded us that all is nought;
For empires today, are soon dens for animals,
The only true value lays in the unbought.
Alas, the pillars are now refuse,
Eaten up by the disaster,
But the greatest treasure we can ever lose,
Is our sisters and brothers.
Perchance if it
Is wholly evil;
This one good it has.
For showing us
That one another;
Is all, that we really have.

Leave a Reply