Syria

I have cried for them:

In the night, waking, to find

tears upon my lashes

a sob welling up from the depths.

A film reel flickering frame by frame –

The wailing toddler; the despairing women;

The men, lost to indignity

The young boy, rescued from the waves

too late.

I hold them up to a seemingly dispassionate 

gaze; and remember 

that even Jesus wept.