Debate for Peace

This piece is by Shahd in Gaza, from the “I am from” collection of Writers Matter.

I Am From…

I am from a land whose name is written in blood and patience,

from a homeland that carries the face of the sun despite the clouds,

from a house that still stands in memory, even if its walls have fallen.

I am from Gaza, from a city that learned to embrace its people even in moments of loss,

from a street filled with dust after the bombing, where I still planted a rose from my soul.

I am from my mother’s arms that became my homeland when the homeland felt too tight,

and from my brother’s laughter — the last thing he left me before he was gone.

From the hand that held mine and said, “Don’t go,”

then let go… taking a piece of my heart with it forever.

I am from a moment that became a wound that never heals,

from a memory suspended between sky and earth,

from a gasp I survived  yet never truly survived.

I am from a voice I use to write, because crying is never enough,

from silence I use to resist the noise of helplessness,

from a heartbeat that still chooses life, even when life chose to test me.

I am from a homeland that never forgets me, even as I try to run from the grief within it,

from a key kept in memory, and a home still standing in my heart,

from a dream of peace that doesn’t break — even when everything else does.

I am from there… from Gaza, from Palestine,

from a pain that taught me how to endure,

and from a love that taught me never to leave.

I am from Bashar…and from the laughter that will never die.