Holy Innocents: transferred

There must have been others who retraced
their ancestors’ footprints over Sinai,
although no Moses basket launched upon the Nile;
instead, the Innocents wakened from a nightmare
by the whisper of a blade, the fading
memory of mothers’ final, ululating lullaby…

Innocence today plays with gunfire;
still unconsoled, our hands, like Herod’s,
holding court to gold, fear, and profits, grasping
at alibis, washed clean by rights…

And Christmas cards celebrate family
and firearms, oblivious or willful to the irony,
forgetful of the Innocents.
Where is the dream to lead us by another road?
Where wisdom to kneel, not beneath the falling sword
but humbly before the helpless, the innocently sleeping Prince of Peace?

About Rosalind C Hughes

Rosalind C Hughes is a priest and author living near the shores of Lake Erie. After growing up in England and Wales, and living briefly in Singapore, she is now settled in Ohio. She serves an Episcopal church just outside Cleveland. Rosalind is the author of A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing , and Whom Shall I Fear? Urgent Questions for Christians in an Age of Violence, both from Upper Room Books. She loves the lake, misses the ocean, and is finally coming to terms with snow.
This entry was posted in Holy Days, poetry, prayer and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s