Preserved Online For All To See ... a poem by Anne Selden Annab

 in Growing Gardens for Palestine

“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)

historic Palestine.

 

We have nothing much more

than personal stories,

beloved memories,

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