And Their Blood Still Cries

drops sway, shining atop each green blade
dancing, shades of colors new to sunken eyes
oceans of topical journeys, uncharted fields
silky yellow islands of petals pop above, one
solitary moment, gardens gate shines white
spotting a stone beach covered with melodies
as round capsules two toned hover a buzzing

skimming, the rays arise to new heights bluish
the kaleidoscope of hues blend back to one
drifting upwards, the drops exchange voices
airships they fly, called above til darkness lies
savage dryness strokes a dimmer day palette
crumpled old geographic map, my sight clearing
bones show now, all around as the moans return

weeping mothers, weeping loudly Rachel dear
Leon says today we fight, we rise, strength builds
see, can dry bones live and move and breath again
speak to these bones, Ezekiel’s time is now, yes?
a vast army arises in Sobibor, of breath and life
final day that killing here will be known, evermore
overgrown our blood still cries out, Heaven hears

Robert Filos is an author of poetry and short stories that combine beauty and wit while highlighting social justice issues. Published worldwide his poetry received over 40,000 views in 2017. Born and raised in The Bronx, he now resides in the South Carolina Low-country with his wife and children. He can be reached at Read other articles by Robert.