A tourist in Beirut

Amber Al Amin Mosque’s blue dome
glistening in the morning light challenging
the Maronite Cathedral for the city skyline.
Heads covered, feet bare under chandeliers
whispered words echo over the years.

We climb spiral stairs to pay homage at the feet
of the Mother of Christ the Lady of Lebanon
Her hands out stretched to the capital
The sun sets to Come All Ye Faithful.

French food a hangover from the Ottoman empire
is served up by waiters with a touch of theatre.
Plates held aloft for added elegance.
But there the idyll ended.

I should warn you there are
distressing images from the start.
We are protected. Not so the citizens of Beirut.
More shrouds. More children. More rubble.

By Joy Johnson