The Higher World

Will you pin a flower to my chest, or a bullet? To the heart of my newborn in my arms, will you give a flower or a bullet? They say human beings are born again they say through reincarnation human beings remain deathless forever. Will you give my heart a flower or a bullet? Once again, you will fall in the middle of a minefield. Once again, you will fall into the black wells of the earth you will fall with your newborn under a hail of rifle butts behind the flimsy border: once again, you will shed blood instead of tears from your eyes. Once again, this time, it is you with an empty stomach, thirsty: with the corpse of your newborn: dead, eyes open, in your arms in the cursed battle of a war not of your wanting, once again you will fall: with the bruises on your body with the wound on the sole of your foot naked in the dust. Once again it is I in your place in the higher world on the earth: once again you will run toward me: with a jug of water, with a round of bread, with balm with your arms, weeping – again – over me and my newborn: victims of Pharaoh! victims of the mine! What is this warmth on my skin? Is it blood? Is it blood that is pouring into my eyes? Why has the earth turned red? Why has the stone turned red? The sky has turned red! Was that a flower? A red rose? Wasn’t it?! Tell me it was a flower!...