Saturday, September 19, 2009

Mother Gaza

She refuses to die.
Neither slow asphyxiation,
nor ordeal by fire
can dim the fierceness of her eye.
No toxin purge,
no surgical strike
can darken the promise of the sky
and though crows gather
beating their wings like blades,
away frustrated carrion fly,
back to roost in stolen groves,
beneath blue, twisted stars,
knowing the future is not theirs.
Oh yes, she bears the scars,
but the harvest is also hers,
her sons and daughters
and all their seed.
Red anemones will rise
where once was weed.

I have never repeated a poem in this way, but Ben Heine kindly sent me the cartoon and suggested that the two might go together. I think the idea speaks for itself!

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous2:41 PM

    I love your work.... keep writing .... you are a great poet.

    takwa alderia