If you have not yet heard of the massacre in Houla, please read this article from The Times
As a parent, I have no words to describe the horror and despair I feel for the people of Houla. I have two children under the age of five, and to think of the beauty and innocence that has been corrupted and destroyed by the violence and anger of a few heartless people is simply unbearable.
The words that follow are not my own, but are my offering as a tribute to the dead children of Houla.
Song for Dead Children
By Muriel Rukeyser 1913–1980
We set great wreaths of brightness on the graves of the passionate
who required tribute of hot July flowers—
for you, O brittle-hearted, we bring offering
remembering how your wrists were thin and your delicate bones
not yet braced for conquering.
The sharp cries of ghost-boys are keen above the meadows,
and little girls continue graceful and wondering.
Flickering evening on the lakes recalls those young
heirs whose developing years have sunk to earth,
their strength not tested, their praise unsung.
Weave grasses for their childhood—who will never see
love or disaster or take sides against decay
balancing the choices of maturity.
Silent and coffined in silence while we pass
loud in defiance of death, the helpless lie.
Good people, if this has moved you in any way, please sign the Save The Children Petition