After the war

[Eva Libre]

after the war
     we will wring our hands
and wonder how humans
could show so little humanity
to each other

after the war
     we will tie ribbons on trees
and shake our heads whenever we
see pictures of hospitals that were
bombed into inhospitable ruins

after the war
     we will race to write the history book
and wonder out loud how for years we
all ignored the sounds of tyrants smacking
their bloodthirsty lips

after the war
     we will build a monument for the dead
and list every single name that was suddenly
cut short by the sound of a chorus of popping
long guns

after the war
     we will all take turns condemning evil
and punish those who committed atrocities
while ignoring the weeds of hate growing
in our own backyard

after the war
     we will all gather in pews to thank God for the ceasefire and sing ancient psalms of community until it's time to go home and watch a horror movie where one person tortures another person

after the war
     we will hug all of the refugees and remind them
to be grateful as we put them on planes and buses to go live out the rest of their lives amid the smoldering ruins of their former home

after the war
     I will absolve myself for the role in the culture of death I played and write an easy poem filled with platitudes about love instead of doing the hard work of transforming my life into an instrument of peace that plays every single day

the lessons we learn
after the war
are always ones we have
to relearn again and again

the peace we strive for
after the war
always comes too late
for those who died

the outrage we feel
after the war
seems to last only as long
as the next Kardashian news story

the unity we seek
after the war
usually dissolves the moment
we go on Twitter to talk politics

the empathy we want to sow
after the war
never survives the frost
of our indifference

Oh, God,
please let me
be as fierce of
an agent of peace
before the war
as I am during and after it

it's so easy to
stand up against
violence while
the bullets are
in midair

Oh, God,
please help me
be an advocate for
peace before the first
artillery shell hits a school

let me carry this
desire to work
for the end of war

before the next one begins

~ john roedel