“I wrote this in reaction to the news of the 72-year old nun who was brutally raped in India some weeks ago. In a world where political, racial, and religious differences are creating chaos everywhere, there is this pious figure who was mercilessly attacked and desecrated yet, she was still able to show the world a great lesson through her experience; a lesson of forgiveness and selfless love towards others –even towards your enemies.”
Her arms is his blanket
Her bosom, his pillow
Her smile is the moon
Shining on his face
As he drifts off to sleep, a baby.
In his sleep, he dreamed
Of a hypnotizing voice
Forcing him to wake up
And so, he opened his eyes, a man.
He saw her face
Her sweet, angelic face
He felt the smoothness of her arms
The tenderness of her bosom
He felt something else –a burning sensation.
And so, he started prodding
Till milk and blood flowed out of her bosom
And joined her pool of tears on the floor.
Satiated, at last, his senses returned
Like someone who just came out of a trance
He looked at her, horrified
Unable to comprehend his own misdeed
Her arms now, black and blue
And bosom, still dripping blood, she got up
Through tears, she smiled
–a moon, shining in a starless, stormy night
Her maternal love prevailed, she whispered:
“My son, I forgive you.”
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2015 by Willyn T Trabajador