This was written during the civil strife in Lebanon that preceded evacuation of Jordanian students and others from Beirut in the spring of 2008 ...

Son is in Beirut right now, up in the mountains of Faraya,
Where you will find a place of tranquility
on any given Sunday.
A meeting place where the young and beautiful people go
to vanquish the plight of the elders.

Enjoy your time with your friends, son
And ease my anxiety.
For an ill wind is blowing off the sea
that does not bode well for my sanity;
Go bunker down on the snowy slopes
away from this realm of ignominy:
of gunship diplomacy and demented foreign politics
that play out in the yard of the Araby.

And as I mourn for the children of Gaza
the dead babes in the arms of their mothers
I strain to find the reason why;
why this theatre of the absurd;
the macabre act of Israeli terror
committed in the name of the Chosen
as the Zionists rub their hands with glee
at all this division by proxy.

So remain oblivious, Son,
at least for the time being;
enjoy your youth and high spirits;
your innocence and faith
your learning;
your god given rights to life;
to peace;

... a mother's hope and yearning.

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