Abu Ward*, “Father of Flowers”: Poetry

Abu Ward, the “father of flowers”:

Abu Ward, the flower forced to rest

by your “accidental” missles

fighting a terror created

by your own terror.

Silenced.

Silenced. 

Leaving his flowers in gray-colored pots,

 

not growing in dirt but dead under the rocks.

His son’s tears irrigating his late father’s plots.

Abu Ward’s halo is their sunshine…

Their very own photosynthesis…

if they still grow. I hope they still grow.

The flowers he once plucked,

and handed them to those who saw the dirt

in the midst of rubble

the way he saw the blue sky

in the midst of the smoke and fire raised,

are now laying on his tombstone by his son…

a tombstone made too soon. Flowers plucked too soon.

Abu Ward, the father of flowers growing in war. Remember him.

 

*I learned about Abu Ward in four minutes while sitting in a coffee shop in a comfortable area. Abu Ward was a gardener in Aleppo, Syria, who was killed by airstrikes recently. In the midst of war that eventually took him life, he was growing life. Abu Ward is just onr story. Those four minutes I watched don’t even cover his life. May he and those lives lost to heinous regimes rest in peace. Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJGp3g93h6M

 

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