Posted in inspirational, Writing for healing

Your Daughters

the woman with her head tilted
We search along with you, mothers and fathers who cannot rest, for your burning tears are our scorched tears…yet it is happening in some other place across the ocean…deep into the countryside near  Chibok village.  Are they in the forest? Who hears them?  Your daughters were writing an exam. They were working on a test, a physics exam. Where are your daughters? Who does these evil things? Where are the molecules of hope, the ligands of connectedness?  Someone please rescue them. Let them go. Let them shed tears of relief rather than despair. Two hundred and thirty. Young innocent brilliant daughters. They will become doctors, dentists, teachers, chemists, biologists. Where are your daughters? Bring them home, bring them home, bring them home.

© copyright 2014 art by Susan E. Rowland


I'm writing. I haven't been on my blog much, so please forgive the lack of updates. I'm doing art. My life is dedicated to any cause that helps the planet and is good for children and other living beings. Don't get me started on politics because it won't be pretty. Humor helps. Check y'all later.

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