Vines, Jasmines and the old trees of apricot spoke the story of that land. Nothing can heal that wound, nothing can clear the regretted hope in the eyes of the mother,she walked out of her home with the hopes held high. they told her it's only a matter of a week or two, and she left the water in the buckets waiting for her to come back and wipe the floor again…
They took very good care of the key of their house. they used to freak out when it's lost. They would go and search for it before they know their child took it, he loved to show it to his new friends in the new place they were in.
Rust ate the key so fast like mold on a wet piece of bread. Water in the buckets flew over the newly invaded heaven. green grass turned into cheap gold. That dream of sleeping next to the ground you was born on slept away. You might lose the key of your house and you'll be angry, think of losing your house when you have the key, how would you feel? What kind of peace you would think of?
I'm not a complete person; nothing can complete me but a step of freedom on its sand. Many told me about it, they told me about the palm like sea and they told me about the birds they wouldn't see except for once. The air over there is hypnotically controlling. you would smell the sea in the air before you reach it. In some places the ground lost its beauty for the sky, lie back and let your eyes see the hazy sky full of stars and moons.
Powerless, careless and voiceless, it's how I'd feel when I see its walls and alleys. Once my grandmother told me that the whole Earth won't make her happy like the swing she had on the old olive tree did, I shivered when she told me that, and tears were about to fall out when she showed me the pictures they took. A person with no memories is a bee with no honey and a person with nothing to fight for is a very weak one.
I always pray and I always ask from God to turn me into a tool that breaks the fence around there, people get sick easily when there are not in their home land because your home land will feed your soul.
You can give up on something, but you can't give up on anything. We'll fight with our tongues, we'll fight with our words, we'll fight with our brushes, we'll fight with our minds, we'll fight for our children who haven't smelled the perfumed soil and we'll eventually fight with our swords.
It's written over everywhere victory is our future, future might be tomorrow, it might be the next week and it might be the next century to come. Winning is not what we are fighting for, we are fighting to win soon and not latter, because we might not witness that victorious later.
Time can go back once and twice. Rust will die like a shark out of the ocean. my life is a rainy winter day on the shore, grey won't escape if I didn't sleep on the Olive tree swing. Sorrow won't die if I didn't climb the same cherry tree my dad climbed. All kinds of fruit will have a new taste. colors will be fulfilled, and my horizon will be colored like a peach once the sunrise is soon…
Dedicated to my Lovely Grandmother.
