Ali
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Ali is my friend from Iraq. He served under Saddam Hussein and deserted during the war, refused to kill more than he already had.... He crawled over bodies, car wrecks and tanks, across the border, wandered through Syria and Lebanon, and finally arrived here.
He hadn't seen his son since the boy was two years old. People here, as well as I, have helped him reunite with his family. They all live in The Netherlands now. The war is etched in his soul, but he remains that incredibly gentle peaceful man.
You landed next to me while I was reading
Mahmoud Darwish in Arabic.
You said: "You really read this? Terrific."
I didn't know yet that this was leading
to a friendship right across all borders
to unite two hearts in pain.
How we both smiled, did not complain.
We went for coffee, and you ordered
for me, and then we talked,
you were from Iraq. A soldier in the War on Terror,
deserted. In your eyes the horror
so present after all these years, you walked.
You couldn't kill, you said, your hands were shaking,
so I wrote your letter to your wife and son
who were still there, although the war was done...
you can't go back, that godforsaken
war kills more than people: it kills humanity.
When will your family be here?
You are too far from those so dear,
they suffer from the world's insanity.
***
June 20, 2017
8th place in contest: I like Muslims
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
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