Baby Dolls

The seamstress of the world could not thread the eye of the needle.
No thread is stong enough to mend

these legs,
these arms,
these hearts,

back together again.

In the ruin of fire, blood, and tears;
baby dolls lay in the waste of sour humanity,
somewhere in the world today.

May the warrior’s heart slip through space,
in the dead calm of darkness; landing on Planet SOS.

Here the thread found is King and Queen to all wordly man’ness things.

The needle threads on the way back down,
and a zillion phoenixs rise up.

Baby dolls,
playing, laughing, smiling.

(Peace to the Souls of Homs, Syria, and children around the world, caught in war)


14 thoughts on “Baby Dolls

  1. Greg Loon says:

    Compelling….profound – i like your writing full of emotion Tara

  2. Yes, the hope comes through. Thanks for sharing it. We all need to be mindful of such things to bring change to our future.

  3. Sonu says:

    Sweet! crisp and gentle writing…. !

  4. Mocha says:

    love it…loving the new pic

  5. t h i n g s + f l e s h says:

    dear Tara, this is a poem of seamless beauty and considerable depth … its tone is pure, clear, and exact … it is music that the world must recognize. tony

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