Heart of Pain

Armenia,
comfort and cradle
of the wounded,
you know what it is
to be esteemed as dirt:  
to be mocked, starved,
and tortured,
ground underfoot into blood
and dust. 
Yet, still you rise,
face to the sun;
your bloodied soil, healing salve,
gift of martyrs and weeping Rachels. 
What wound, then,
would the unction
of your monstrous suffering
not be able to heal?

P.S.  On behalf of the Armenian priest, Father Michael Kayal, kidnapped in Syria on February 9, 2013:
Father Michael Kayal