Her Eyes

this poem came to me as a result of my visit to the West Bank, Rumallah while walking down the street observing. Her Eyes Her eyes . . . They showed no emotion, Like a calmed wave-less sea. I watched, But she did not even blink Nor did she seem To notice life As it passed by her On the street. There was a quiet resolve, But I detected a subtle anguish, Endured for much too long. She had acquiesced To some degree To the life she was given, Afforded . . . Would some semblance of peace Change her eyes, The in-expressive peering At life ? What if . . . The things We so often Take for granted, Changed? We observe life at times As if it is a preordained right. We take for granted Far too much . . . Things, such as joy, laughter, peace And love.