When I was seven,
At gunpoint,
I was driven out of my land, Palestine
A Naksa, survivor, daughter of Nakba survivors
Eyes moist, gazing at the horizon
Fixated towards Jerusalem
Ever since
When I was seventeen,
My family departed Libya, moved away, as did I
Leaving all my friends behind
“I will not go through this again” I thought
“No more friends, no more love, no more gain
No more loss, no more separation, no more pain” I said to myself
At twenty seven,
A stranger in a strange land, London, UK
The chest of my beloved was ripped open
Valve replacement in his heart
Standing by his side in ICU
“I wish it was me under the surgeon’s knife”
“I could cope better, if I took your place”
Anguish, unbearable, legs turn jelly, I fell to the floor
At thirty seven,
Gasping for life, in a hospital bed in Whiston
With a fine thread, clutching onto hope
Wavering in and out of existence, for four years
Watching my children growing alone, playing alone
Sobbing at my baby’s daily questions:
“Are you feeling better, mama? Can you give me a bath?
Can you tell me a story? Can we play outside today?”
“Does that grey colour in your hair mean you’re going to die soon, mama?”
At forty seven,
Grieving the sudden loss of my soulmate,
Burying my beloved in Amman graveyard
Frozen, flicking through my memories
Searching every corner of my mind
Digging my heart, carving the kernel of my soul
Maybe, just maybe, I could hear one of Khaled’s heartbeats!
Meet his shadow, touch his hand
Catch a whiff of his scent around
At fifty seven,
oops, not there yet !
* * *
NO… NO
Don’t get me wrong
I am not complaining, not at all
I am merely describing
The lowest points in time and space
Of the map of my journey, in the valleys of my soul
* * *
The rest is magic
Swaying hills, and gushing waterfalls
Great big mountains with high altitudes
Buoyant meadows and dancing rainbows,
Flowing rivers, pounding oceans, hymns of gratitude
Thank you Allah, Shukran ya wadoud
Filed under: soul songs | Tagged: life, love, pain, suffering | Leave a comment »
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