Such Tenderness, for the Mothers of Gaza

Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch
 

for the mothers of Gaza
 

There was, in your touch, such tenderness -- as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable to sing.
 

What songs long forgotten occur to you now --
a babe at each breast? What terrible vow
ripped from your throat like the thunder that day
can never hold severing lightnings at bay?
 

Time taught you tenderness -- time, oh, and love.
But love in the end is seldom enough ...
and time? -- insufficient to life’s brief task.
I can only admire, unable to ask --
 

what is the source, whence comes the desire
of a woman to love as no God may require?