Nestled in the Kabul Valley the capital city of Kabul, wedged between the Hindu Kush mountain ranges of Afghanistan, sustains a 3,500 year history, albeit scarred by the crossfire of mortar fire under intermittent siege of battle.
From the early Islamic conquest to Mongol invasion, Timurid and Mughal era, Durranic Empire, Afghan State and invasions by the Soviets, US and British, sporadic war has been brief in cessation. Taliban militant insurgent factions continue to rain down their mortar fire amidst the narrow, crooked streets of a city struggling to survive.
The children live for tomorrow amid the fear of war and death today.
Eyes of deepest innocence gaze upon
A festive bazaar bearing fresh fruits
Amidst shattered hostel, pillared stone
Palaces tower, august grandeur
Fragrant aromas permeate air
Dried fruit and baked nuts, treated leathers
Afghan rugs summon robust barter
Ajmal peers dreamlike to Hindu Kush
Mountains of the Province, majestic
Castles of stone in silent vigil
Child of the village, ambivalent
Draped in salwar kameez, keffiyeh
Orphaned by the gun of Taliban
In crossfire of ideologies
Tears of the lonesome would cease to fall
Sun-scorched earth lay beneath blistered feet
The bloodied stains linger on his hands
The soil of windstorm dust upon face
His youthful words fall upon deaf ears
Battles waged in anger, no refrain
Copyright Don MacIver 2010; All Rights Reserved