My Creed And My Tears
by Edilson Afonso Ferreira
Today I opened my mourning’s season.
I cried for the lack of solidarity and brotherhood,
for the existence, till today, of countries’ borders,
increasing inequalities and suffering among people;
for the estrangement among whites and blacks,
yellows and browns, Christians and Muslims;
for the rich that reach water from golden faucets
and the poor by carrying it in the buckets;
for the wine and salmon’s tables of the mansions
and the yesterday’s bread passing from hand to hand;
for the security of the politicians for the coming years
and the fear of common people for tomorrow;
for the dreams of the righteous that have not come true
and the audacity of the insolent who are not intimidated;
for my lack of faith that everything is on our Lord’s hands
and in His extreme love for us.
My tears have washed my body and eased my soul.
When I die, no need to cry more.
I have already cried for what matters, at least for me.
Mr. Ferreira, 73, is a Brazilian poet who writes in English rather than Portuguese, having been published in venues like Right Hand Pointing, The Lake, The Stare’s Nest, The Provo Canyon, Red Wolf Journal, Whispers, Every Day Poems, Indiana Voice Journal, The Mocking Heart and some others. He lives in a small town (Formiga (MG) with wife, three sons and a granddaughter and is trying to publish his first Poetry Book, with about 70 poems.