SS (1987 / egypt)

The Streets Of Palastine

I walked the streets
The streets of ancient Palestine
A stream of stories and dreams
In my hands I found a plea
A present from people in need

I walked down those streets
The streets of ancient Palestine
I stop at every closed door
Peek through broken windows
Ruined floors

Their sad eyes haunted me
Tortured me …pulled me into their homes
Into a world of broken hearts and deserted hopes

A brown land... working hands
Breathing green into plains and sands
Now homes and windows are closed up
Children's faces stained in red marked with blood

As one frightful night
Their right was shed in front of their eyes
Stained strong arms squeezed their lives
Their homes ashes of thorns and fires

I see them caged behind walls of sands
Gazing at their denied right... Shelter and land
In those same streets I now scream
The streets of ancient Palestine
Let the song be storms and streams
O my cry soar high, and high
Storm those hearts
Invade those Consciousnesses and minds

Tell them of what has become, what is being done
In this city where love is a stranger
And humanity is a beggar strolling the streets of life
The streets of hanging dreams
The streets of Palestine

by sally sh.

Comments (2)

Harlan is right -'if you build it he shall come' 'in my hands i found a dream' let's nurse this dream and save it from scourge of hatred hugs-rehan
I love this poem, a plea for love rather than hate and war and desolation. in my hands i found a dream - very nice. I also like the last two lines. You write from the heart, with feeling. Someday Jerusalem will indeed be what it's name means - the City of Peace, when the Prince of Peace himself returns from Heaven. It's in Zechariah 12 - 14. God has told me to stay away from religion but to read the Bible every day - to feed my spirit. And to read Emily Dickinson's poetry. Anyway, that's his message to me. He guides each of us in our own paths. May yours be fulfilling and interesting and full of good to all. Here's one of my favorite poems by American poet Emily Dickinson: It’s all I have to bring today - This, and my heart beside - This, and my heart, and all the fields - And all the meadows wide - Be sure you count - should I forget Some one the sum could tell - This, and my heart, and all the Bees Which in the Clover dwell.