Inheritance

He carries your burden,
in his cells, deep in the spiculed marrow of his bones

your unborn,
our brothers and sisters

maybe that's why i love the rustle of sun-speckled poplar leaves in the Anatolian summer,
the smell of soil, and the touch of morning dew on my bare soles,
that is them now

unheard cries, carried in the wind
unseen smiles, in the breaking rays of a pink dawn

i am the lucky one, born before i could inherit your pain
in my bones, cells

but still you passed it on, this burden
in the tears pooling bloodshot eyes
in the nighttime screams
to visions of death and carnage, visiting and revisiting,
night after night

death and carnage, in that magic space of life and birth, of "miracles"
so many battles waged, a war lost
of this only you know,
how this sanctuary turned to coffin

and so, you bled your blood into him
into his cells and deep into the marrow of his bones
bathed him in stinging tears
and now it is his burden
and it is my burden
and it is our burden,
this inheritance