What Would You Have Me Save?

Lower your voice. There are children asleep. Whatever you think of me, Let them keep their dreams... You saw the lanterns on the quay, The windows warm against the rain, The little boats come safely home— I know their owners all by name. You shared their bread beneath theese roofs. They filled your cup and pulled you near. How easy kindness must have seemed Before you learned what keeps it here. Now there are nine you mean to save. I know. I chose them one by one. But when you tear this pact apart, Who tells the rest what you have done? What would you have me save? Which light should I let die? Whose mother gets an empty room? Whose father no goodbye? Put down your sword and tell me Which home you’d give away. You ask me how I bear the cost— What would you have me save? Don’t let this face mislead you. The years have left their mark. I watched the hands that built these homes Lie folded in the dark. Their children grew to trust me. Their children’s children came. You’ve had one night to hate me. I’ve lived through every name. Yes, I could call the killing cruel And leave the choosing to the rest. Would you prefer a cleaner hand That lets the forest take the rest? What would you have me save? Which light should I let die? Whose mother gets an empty room? Whose father no goodbye? Put down your sword and tell me Which home you’d give away. You ask me how I bear the cost— What would you have me save? The first time, I was frightened. I waited to be stopped. I thought the hands would tremble Every time the blade was dropped. Then morning came. The ovens warmed. A fishing boat returned. Someone asked what should be done— I answered. And I learned. Now every frightened eye finds mine. I speak; they know where they should stand. There is a peace in being certain. There is a steadiness in command. And you would put it all at risk For hope you cannot even name? Then leave me here among the roots To count the people hope has claimed? What would you have me save? Look up. They’re all around. The hands that poured your wine tonight, The feet on hallowed ground. I will not give their homes away. I will not yield this place. You do not get to gamble them And call that gamble grace. What would you have me save? I’ve heard all you can say. The nine will see this village through. Now step out of my way. Lower your voice. There are children asleep. I intend to keep The promises I keep.