This is Entry 27 in the Mondo Awards end-of-year Inspire-us contest. The author gives her bio at the bottom.
Just because I cannot keep
My child away
From the battlefield
Outside our door
………
Just because I do not gather
All the stones from the streets
And tear his slings
………
Just because I am unable
To shield my children from the hail
Of raging bullets
Or lead away from a sniper’s aim
…..
Just because neither I nor my children
Have a choice
But to suffer
And deal with pain in our own way
Depending on what
Today has offered
And tomorrow might bring
…..
Just because you do not see me
Weep for him
…….
Just because I try to greet
Each homecoming
With a measure of pride
And skillfully hide
……
My aching
You think I do not
Love my child?
I do grieve
Oh, how I grieve
But I try to do so bravely
……
I still hear
My young son’s voice
Resounding in the air
I feel so proud
My baby dared
To call out loud
For freedom
……
Those who believe
Themselves to be free
Take freedom for granted at times
Misuse it
Even abuse it
……
Is the ‘free world’
Truly allowed
To think freely today?
…..
As their media travels
On a single track
Back, back, back
……
To medieval times
When it was heresy to say
Opposing things
Or think for oneself?
……
Today it is heresy of a kind
To state simple truths
Such as how and where
My children die
…..
Heresy it would be
To find out why
-Palestinian Mother that I am-
I do not cry
……
Oh, Palestinian motherhood!
Your pain spans generations
Your new suffering at each juncture
Parallels
The expansion of Israel
……
If only people
Could judge for themselves
Unswayed by the lies
Of Israel’s media machine
They would sympathize
With our desperate attempts
To break our confines
And be free!
…..
They would recognize
That my child
Is a reckless hero
…..
Just as theirs would be
If he tried with slingshots
To fight armed gangs
In the back- streets
Of western towns
….
But here, in this,
Our occupied land
Where we are stripped
Of everything
No present, no future, no dignity
No schools, no jobs, no security
……
Where our children get blinded
Soldiers aim for young eyes
Where our children get killed
Israel rids itself
Of young Palestinian lives
…..
Where when one hero is down
There always rises
Another
With a sling
To challenge
The mighty military machine
…..
That has made this sacred land
A cemetery
…..
And while all that goes on
Waiting at home
Are the worried, helpless mothers
Battling bereavement in our minds
Every waking moment
Of our lives
…..
But wait
What’s happening outside?
Oh no!
…….
It’s one of my own
This time!
Oh God! This is it
My day has arrived
And this
Is my moment
…….
I let my husband support me
We ignore all the sorrowful faces
And look on as our child
In his white shroud
Is finally laid to rest
……
With some hesitation
We sprinkle the earth upon him
And suddenly, we both hear it
A friendly whisper from the crowds
Echoed again, out loud
……
A song of liberation
Transcending space and time
To the beginning of creation
…..
“Your child is finally free…”
……
How true! Our child is finally free!
….
And my husband presses my hand
Yes, I know
His darling body is forever
In the best of resting places…
In the ever-loving embrace
Of Motherland.
The author states: As a young Syrian girl, travelling the world with my Diplomat parents, I’d felt protected… until I witnessed the two wars of 1967 and 1973. Diving into the basement did not save our neighbors from the Israeli warplanes which flattened their building and many others … while the bomb which landed in our garden failed to explode. As we stood that day by order of the bomb-squad at the secure perimeter they’d set up, looking, perhaps for the last time, at our home in Damascus, I realized the existence of another world which I felt guiltily-fortunate not to inhabit: The world of a Palestinian. I realized that nothing can compare to the suffering of valiant people, struggling every moment to live- and die- in their homeland. And I began voicing their pain: The pain of young boys and girls, of fathers and mothers.. of the elderly and the dying.. even the pain of their keys, who now have no owner and no home.
