Today I am presenting a moving piece from a friend of mine. If you do not know the situation in Gaza, you can read about it here.
Five Little Girls (For the Children of Palestine)
I wish that I could tell you more than simply what’s being said
That the onslaught turned itself around when the mortars heard you didn’t make it;
that everything ceased;
That somehow they left a tear in the midst of all the confusion cultivated decimation yet christened retribution
That serenity was left to boys and girls like you
But explosives don’t harbor souls like they cart destruction and
today I’d be lying to you if I said I thought humans are any different
I can’t sum up the courage it takes to be a liar
I won’t cosign or bolster one sidedness
Nor entice you with an apology to your family;
these never suffice.
Or passively pontificate about life after babies born into, now buried along rocketed dilapidations
…Kids who used to cling to swings, musallahs, and schools
And maybe even salvation
I can not sweep it over
No, today I can’t be man
And I am not even sure I’m to apologize for man anymore
what I can report is that you are not alone
you are not abandoned
but truth be told I am just as much your loneliness
as I am your perpetrator
I did not fire this rocket nor muffle your sister’s and brother’s screams
simply ask why it took five of you to bring me here
and you will see that I am no innocent,
there is no nobility to be found
What shakes a man from apathy;
Teaches him to crawl again?
Is there any justification for a soul with no reason when you were given full purpose, or shall I take my 99 deaths in your stead?
If they handed me the gun would that make my search any more sanctified?
Justify my own sins?
Could the poorness of my spirit be shooed away clean with the remnants of a richer Palestine?
Tell me if this is what my shoulders should bear
as I look to you for lessons neverminded in academia;
it is today that I am learned of your blamelessness
and weary of the damage wrought on by ego
today I’m scholared in the ritual of remorse, fervor, and passion
Today, I want to cry out that I appreciate with subtle indulgence
that the succulence in freedom is conceived on the embrace of Khadijah
The caress of Halimah,
The trust of Aishah
And the innocence of five little girls…
Democracy is more than legality; it is a shared sentiment
And love is more than an emotion, it is a capacity;
Without that capability we too lie in wait for rescue
under the rubble of broken understanding and archetypal contemplation
If they handed me the camera would that numb the coldness of the bullet?
Stave the direction of chastisement?
Am I now the illustration of your collateral damage
What would make me prouder than to one day stand in front of you all
with the response to this testimony!!!
No you are not alone young tender…
I am no man…
Only the resilience of a child
The blossoms of a future’s rose
The echoes in the myriads of grace and patience
The remembrance of the beginning
Retribution’s first opera
And the smile and applause at the end
All I ask is that one day you share your front door
With the withered souls
Who are still not safe from the reign’s rain.
They need the home you covet
where silence is a measure of faith and ended dread
And I need daughters and sons to name in your wake;
I should change dear Tahrir,
Or mire me in shades of blood and cinder ash;
I want change brave Ikram,
Or drown me in fear and absence’s suggestions;
I can change sweet Samur,
Or leave my affections for a witch’s heart;
I will change precious Dina,
Or share with me a supplication’s suffocation;
I am change beautiful Ayah,
Or bury me under the footsteps you never intended to give away.
And Allah Knows Best!!!
by Nurideen Ibn Bashir