The nightmare replays
Over and over
I didn’t want to watch it
But I knew I must
My mouth was buried in my pillow
But my eyes fully opened
– I pushed play –
First it showed the tiny hands
They were smaller than a dime
Only God would ever hold these precious fingers
And then the blood
All the blood
Shattered remnants of mangled baby bones
Lying lifeless in their own blood
A gloved finger poked
At a small lump in the red puddle
And suddenly a little mouth opened
A mouth that would never have a voice
Then the pale, grey infant
Whom the doctor wrapped up
In the blood-stained sheet
I’ve held my little toy dolls
And they were smaller than this baby
Lord, when did we decide we had the right
to slaughter Your children?
When were we given the authority
to choose whose blood was worth preserving?
To choose whose bones were worth more
than to be crushed and whose skin precious enough
to leave intact?
Father, forgive us…
Forgive us for the denial and ignorance.
Wake us up.
And forgive them, God, for they know not what they do.