kyiv ukraine

Eat this.

There is not

much time for eating. We

fight and

food is scarce and

getting scarcer.


Maybe this is

our last supper? Perhaps

the world is ending?


This shattered bone-bread

is bodies of our people –

fallen, falling

bread crumbs and

scattered black seeds of sunflowers.


Citizens who are

dismembered sleep now, never

to waken again, cold, voiceless

in the wet snow of war. Dazed

confused, forlorn lovers, lonely

and afraid

seek one another. Search

where the sky is collapsed.



perhaps an orphaned child in

a heavy, winter coat

or maybe a bundled, homeless cripple

trudges away. Where do the

old and the sick go to hide?


Drink this.

Who knows if

and when we might drink again?

Press your lips with us to

the breath and tear-stained cup

and taste the bittersweet of

what it takes for

some human beings to

be allowed to be human.



This is the blood

of our people – spilling, lamenting

along bombed out

streets, blown buildings and

the fields where

once sunflowers grew. Tall

golden witnesses to bygone peace.


We are dying in Ukraine

for freedom.

The whole world is watching.

We are dying.


David Sparenberg is the author of CONFRONTING the CRISIS: Essays & Meditations on Eco Spirituality. He is a teacher of existential ecosophy and Eco-poet who lives in the Pacific NW of the United States.

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