I slept barely three hours last night so I worked, took a vigorous walk,
and contemplated life. I force myself to watch the horrors of the genocide
and destruction around us...my nightmares seem small compared to reality. I
touch base with friends in the Gaza strip where they are herded like cattle
from one place to another to be bombed to reduce their population and
finish off the Palestinian question, a final solution to make the land
devoid of its indigenous people. All with support of western governments
under the boot of Zionism. In my walk I also reflected on how difficult it
is to build our oasis of hope (see palestinenature.org) in the middle of
this mayhem and stressed for resources (funding and people). I also
reflected on people (those active, those colluding, those humane....). I
also worked on my latest book of reflections on activism and decided to
sprinkle in it some of my earlier poems. Here are four selected poems I had
written many years ago.

Contemplation
11/11/04

thoughts of life and death
past, present, and yet to be
somehow, somewhere, sometime
yearning to understand
the eternal questions
looking to touch the mind of God
so distant
so powerful
so amazing
but hidden within each of us
perhaps all the secrets of life
are there to see
in a handshake
in a smile
in a child's eye
in a single cell
or in a kiss

Purpose
(4/20/05)

We can help without interfering
In the fate unfolding
Not to fashion a destiny
neither to act in enmity
But to enjoy and aid
nature's evolving cascade
not to breach
neither to beseech
to act without destroying
to build without obstructing
Looking inward is key
to future living free
aid the natural blooming
of life's miracles growing
and unfoldig a better future
for every living creature

O Palestine
7/15/05
(Published in Human Liberation (Nakba 48) Vol 1, No 1, Sept 2005)
Published also in French at ISM France

Your sisters stayed in their palaces
With golden chains and shameless lies
Some grinned and aided criminals...
Others chose to veil their eyes
Some justify rape and expulsions
Others prayed to their silent gods.

When you thought they had their fills
In that dry June of decays,
They climbed over the hills
To finish the ghastly deeds

Sickening became the violations
Dark masses on your strong arms
arms that gently lifted orphans
Armenian, Circasian, Hebrew and Druze
Fractures on your white breasts
That gave milk to hungry babies
Bruises on your gentle fingers
That wiped the tears from so many eyes
Your sad eyes bear their marks
on a kind face that gave millions hopes

Maddening deafening sounds
Of violent bloody rapes
Of countless lengthy reports
Of motions, plans, and resolutions
that sacrificed justice and truths
at the altar of greedy egos

Where goes the hope of children dreams?
In awakening consciences?
In olive trees or returning cactuses?
In time, distance, or struggles?
In awakening heart deep in majestic mountains?
Beating beneath silent deserts?
Occasionally erupting � intifadas?
1920..29..36..56..87...2000...

The lost men hopelesly lust for power crums
endlessly argue about keys
While she struggles to break the doors
And tear down the suffocating walls
Clans and Tribes follow mirages
and weaklings imagine strength in lies

But in the end no one denies
Your ancient spirit survives
To help heal all bruises
yours and ours
When the sun again shines
O Palestine

Of Palestine
4/19/06
When I die, bury my ashes in my town
Joining my memory with that of beloved soil
that gave us life, education, and love
In Palestine
Under the uncompromising sun and the sky
that tells no lies
In Palestine
Where we learned to plough rocky soils
and dance the dabka
sway to the magic of nai and oud
Fairuz an Um Kulthum
mothers' tender words inseparable from a meal
zait and Zaatar
In Palestine
where we we worshipped in mosque, church, and olive groves
where we learned to live together everyday
even when not knowing it would be our last day
In Palestine
where We hated the occupation, the land confiscation, the US funded army
where we mourned friends lost
where we resisted by staying, living, and loving
and when we could not stay, we stayed connected
with all that was good and worthy of our love
Of Palestine
where we got to school dodging
bullets, checkpoints, walls
"Keef al-ma7soom alyoum"
In the refugee camps..the loneliness of the ghorba
we still married, had children, laughed, cried, lived, and loved
we taught our children to kick the ball, to say Ahlan wa Sahlan,
and to believe that
Our ashes join a million million spirits
of ancestors who lived and loved
and children who live and love
we still teach them
"like 20 impossibles"
We shall return
To Palestine
and our children will live in freedom
In Palestine

Mazin Qumsiyeh
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