Groundviews

Spring

Photo courtesy of Foreign Policy

 

Where do these words come from?

From the bleeding River Jordan.

From the Gaza sea bobbing with

bodies and food packages. From

the mosque in Rafah in the gunsights

 

of a tank. From Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital

where limbs are amputated to save

broken lives. From Nuseirat,

Deir-al-Balah, Gaza City. Name

your deconstruction site. Name

 

your university dismantled:

Al-Quds Open, Gaza, Al-Aqsa, Al-Azhar.

Name your hospital. Everyone has been

bombed except for Al Aqsar Martyrs

which becomes the healing center

 

of this trans-body experience. Today

I seek to write your suffering.

I pitch my tent on the campus lawn.

I research how to divest from

companies selling shells raining

 

on you. I join your cry: We will

not be moved, although bombs

and leaflets are close by. They

approach. The end they promise

will come. But olive trees are people

 

and they resist. roots deep

in the earth. They live on buried

water and food. The time of locusts

will pass. This I see and hear

in my dream. I eat olives.

 

I drink water from the water truck.

I scramble with friends uphill

running from tear gas and bullets.

I send you doves. I send you

these words from where words come.

Watch Where Olive Trees Weep here: https://checkout.thewisdomoftrauma.com/api/v1/statistics/fulfill/567bed3eede4338bebdd30bc2e100316aad67af1cc99/54/product?meta_http_redirect=url

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