In Order for Me to Write Poetry
I have just to look out my window
The birds are munching their seeds
darting, hustling, swooping, soaring
Chirrupping and cooing to me
and each other
The sun peeks through the clouds
calling me to contemplate peace
In order for me to write poetry
I just sit in silence as I wish
I have enough food
I have clean water to drink
I have the Internet to publish
this poem online if I wish
and paper and pen if I don’t
I even have lots of things I want
and no threat of missiles
coming my way
no warplanes overhead
Can the people of Gaza take
time to write poems today?
Can they look out windows
they no longer have?
Many can’t hear the birds
for the pounding of fear
in their chest is louder
than the birds
The boat of a moon tonight
calls Gaza to break their
fast at افطار Iftar,
but what if there is no food?
How can there be a celebration
when there is no food?
How can there be peace
when there is no hope?
I wrote the poem above after seeing this on Instagram today:
View this post on Instagram
In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political,
I must listen to the birds
and in order to hear the birds
the warplanes must be silent