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Letters From the Palestinian Border

09 Feb
It would feel like if you ate
Gorged yourself in front of a hungry person.
But the starving one is the one who cooked the meal,
Grew the garden,
Nurtured the abundance
And then they just took it.
Ate from another’s plate.
For 63 years.
 
This is the border between Palestine and Lebanon
Between Palestine and us.
Between you and I.
This is what the border must look like
To the thirsty
To the hungry –
Dry, cracking Earth where I stand
Dying, withered weeds
Trash.
Zionist wrappers.
Empty
Bottles of water
And then-
My eyes feast on the overwhelming abundance just over the electric wall-
Rolling greens.
Fertile.
Plentiful
Life.
 
I feel numb.
I keep staring at the thirsty ground under my blistering feet.
Looking up and across
Creates a blocking in my throat.
She tells me when she was a little girl-
She wanted to be wealthy
Wealthy enough
Just enough
To buy her village back – she laughs a little.
I begin to sob so I carry my eyes to the ground again-
Weeping, parched, blowing plants
Struggling in the heat.
 
This time I look straight up.
Two flags
Scorched from the unbearable sun
I remember to wipe my brow.
 
I hear the UN solider behind me.
Questions.
Invading the past and present histories.
Memories.
And I can’t stop crying.
 
Thousands come to see their home-
A young woman yells in Arabic
“Palestine do you hear us?”
“We are here to see you”
“We are here to see you,”
“To love you,”
“To be with you,”
“To live you,”
“To live with you,”
“To live in you again.”
 
Then a little girl-
Running alongside the fence, happily chanting-
“Palestine”
“Palestine”
“Palestine”
She has known it her whole life.
Her grandmother looks up to the sky
“Ya Rab”
“My Lord”
“May we return to Palestine.”
 
Ya Allah-
May I return with healing hands and clear eyes
To see Palestine
To be Palestine.
 
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Posted by on February 9, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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