She’d sit still… and ponder
Whisper to pomegranate kernels
Caress almonds with a stone
Make Jokes with lemons
Tell stories of good people to orange blossom
Recite the news to carob, hawthorn and apples trees,
.
.
A little girl, she was… young and mischievous
she’d run around gathering poppies
Drink morning dew scented of wild iris
She’d chase butterflies and race hummingbirds
Fill water jars from the well, empty them in clay zeer
From broken glass pieces she’d paint windows
and of pebbles and stones, walls for her little house
with girls and boys she’d sing and dance
celebrate a wedding, in “bride and groom” game
.
.
When evening
Her head, plaited with clouds
Would lay to embrace her grandma’s lap
Most tender most beautiful pillow
A warm and gentle hand… as paradise
would caress her curly hair
A sweet velvety voice as of an angel
Tell her stories, perhaps she’d fall asleep
With smiling heart and smiling lips she’d close her eyes
Open her transparent wings and fly
Above the vineyards and fig and olive fields
.
.
A little girl, she was… young and mischievous
One rosy moonless night
Sky shimmered with her diamond gown
Stillness fell asleep like a breathing angel
“This gorgeous night is mine, I’ll sleep on the terrace
I will count her many stars
will not forget or ignore any
I’ll uncover her secrets
Tonight without a doubt, I’ll learn the truth
I will count her many stars, one by one
I’ll know their essence
and if I look hard enough
I may even see the face of the One who created
who sparkled sky with stars“
Her giggling mischievous eyes whispered
.
.
On a straw carpet, her eyes looked up and far
Struck by breathtaking beauty
Her heart gripped in awe
Her mind flew away
Her vision disintegrated
She didn’t give up though
Continued counting
Star after star after star
and since that day
She has not finished yet
If you ever meet her
You would find her still counting
.
Poetry for Palestine 