A Prayer for Poetry
A Prayer for Poetry
Our ears are closed
made deaf by greater powers
the ones who believe
Palestine offers us no art
its people have no right
to share in our world
writers cannot bloom
among the falling bombs
blood and shattered bones
are not the soil they need
phones no longer ring
and paper can’t be found
poets write inside
the lids of their eyes
hum verses to themselves
to drown the noise of guns
each one holds a prayer
their death will be clean
but through the dust
the crash of falling homes
art will find its breath
reach for the light and shout
spread vibrant leaves above
the rubble of today.
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