The Ribbons in Her Hair

Impossible, Impossible
that all this could fall.

I see you standing there,
blue ribbons in your hair.

Then the ground fell away,
nothing’s allowed to stay.

Silence, dust settles,
evening glow casts gold.

A beat, and the chorus rises,
layers of screaming,
all’s trapped inside it’s fold.

Underneath, she waits,
pinned under weight of stone.

Face fixed in breathless calm,
in darkness she breathes alone.

Will they find me? Will they find me?
her small hands grasp for escape.

But silence heeds no hope of help,
and her only choice is to wait.

Minutes become hours,
hours become days.

But this child still breathes down there,
in tiny little waves.

Will they find me? Will they find me?
has become, when will I die?

Her imagination takes over,
and she is now in the light.

Haiti is bent over,
weeping can be heard.

And the ribbons in her hair,
have scattered everywhere.

// This photograph was taken in Port au Prince, Haiti in October, 2009, before the earthquake. This child symbolizes so many children and her ribbons were my inspiration.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 31st, 2010 at 12:59 pm and is filed under Images, Words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.