Pakistan

How hard in seeking safety
to choose to sleep outside
amidst rubble and frightened
children, among crying neighbors
and the vibration of panic
running like a current through
each encampment.

No food, no water, no sense
of when relief may come.
Longing for stillness and
waiting for an answer to
the first ripple, like an echo
headed homeward to its
tremulous beginning.

Arms cling tight to loved ones
and prayers trickle from lips
like water pouring forth across
a blighted landscape, searching
for life. It must be hard to reconcile
the erasure of years compounded
tangibly into stability and shelter.

Gone in a space of time
inconsistent with the aftermath;
the outcome insufficiently
explained in any language
as those left empty steal
fitless sleep and wake
to stop the dreaming.