Compassion Fatigue

by Diana Woodcock

                                    It is the knowledge that there can never be any peace and joy for                                        me until there is finally peace and joy for you.

                                                                                                 ~ Carl Frederick Buechner

Suffering from compassion fatigue—

living too near the war zone,

Gaza—I feel exhausted, irritable,

angry. Two years on, another

fragile cease fire agreement in place,

another tragic, frantic return

to their destroyed homes. Each day

I face the dreaded task of listening

(refusing to watch) the latest news.

Today, the reporter interviews one

man returned to the rubble of his house.

He is digging with his bare hands

in search of family members buried

underneath. How to speak

of the horror? How to hold fast

to my capacity for compassion?

How not to collapse under the weight

of grief and utter disbelief

that such hatred and cruelty persists?

How to insist (with Julian of Norwich)

all shall be well in the end?

How to transcend this earthly

hell for that heavenly domain

before I go insane?

Note: Inspired by an Al Jazeera report, Oct 25, 2025

 “Mahmoud Abu Nabhan continues to search with his bare hands for the bodies of his family buried under the rubble of his home.”

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Diana Woodcock has authored seven poetry collections, most recently Reverent Flora ~ The Arabian Desert’s Botanical Bounty (Shanti Arts, 2025), Heaven Underfoot (2022 Codhill Press Poetry Award), Holy Sparks (2020 Paraclete Press Poetry Award finalist), and Facing Aridity (2020 Prism Prize for Climate Literature finalist). A four-time Pushcart Prize nominee, she received the 2011 Vernice Quebodeaux Poetry Prize for Women for her debut collection, Swaying on the Elephant’s Shoulders. Currently teaching at VCUarts Qatar, she holds a PhD in Creative Writing from Lancaster University, where she researched poetry's role in the search for an environmental ethic.