Body on a Beach

No one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land.

https://www.thearabweekly.com/ravaged-war-syrias-aleppo-looks-forward-revival-world-heritage-site

There’s a body on the mid-winter beach bloated by sea water, battered by waves, the skin an indeterminate grey but the DNA gives it away: stomach distended, flesh eaten away. The soul departed leaving a package of flesh behind with sea weeds dancing from the open mouth that once kissed another, a mother, a lover, spoke words of comfort to the dying, bereaved. Religion indeterminate, nationality left behind. Look at the legs that carried the body over rugged mountains, across freezing tundra, over deserts thirsty, prickly with heat, across borders. Look at the eyes which read the newspapers scanned the phones. Read the holy books consumed erotic poetry and letters from home. While a heart that was broken by war, death and loss gathered the strength to begin life all over again. That grey mush was a brain that loved to tussle, think and debate. Those fingers wrote elegies that were gateways to all the planets and stars. In classical Arabic she argued it was never too late to begin life again, soon, in beautiful Aleppo.

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