What brazen mockery of death,
That such an innocent is born,
Surrounded by the rot of war,
Upon a dark apartment floor,
Which only candle flames adorn,
No doctor can to her attend,
This mother in the throes of birth,
Her family and her neighbors strive,
To keep the babe and mom alive,
To reach the highest forms of mirth,
The baby first to them appeared,
A lifeless child, pale and blue,
But ‘lisa would not be denied,
Her precious life, and so she cried,
And turned a more vivacious hue,
Amid the bombs and rifle fire,
There springs life to contradict,
Destruction and the pain of loss,
Each a mighty albatross,
Which war cannot but help inflict.
That’s a beautiful poem, Jacob!
Thanks, Dad! I heard the story on the way into work this morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it…glad they were able to bring Alisa into the world safely!