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.
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