|“My Christian grandmother and my Muslim grandmother in Palestine” - Shared by a Palestinian man on Facebook|
The Holy Land
You have bullets, bully brigades,
biblical words & word smiths
all fundraising for more...
More injustice. More suffering.
More homes and gardens usurped,
more children tormented and
families destroyed in what was
(what always will be)
We have nothing much more
than personal stories,
and old photographs
preserved online for all to see.
We are people, human beings.
Our ancestry reaches back
totally entwined with every
rock and stone, every tree,
every water well, every little flower,
no matter where we are now.
Our recipes are of the land
and trade routes, plus trial
and error. We helped perfect bread
baked in clay ovens, in our own way.
Our Zaatar is a scrumptious blend
of herbs & our olive oil is heavenly gold.
We keep keys.
Our embroideries are
by hand, with symbols
imagined and taught
mother to daughter for eons,
for longer than thread can last.
Our hope is that one day
justice and peace will prevail
for all good people willing to
actively empower fair and just laws
with full and equal rights, respect,
dignity... and security for all.
poem copyright ©2015 Anne Selden Annab-->