Thread by @EdwardECurtisIV

An anonymous African poet’s lament for the people of Palestine:

Jerusalem, 2021
I saw thousands of prayers      rise up like flares
         nightly, o’er an iron dome
Then dozens of souls,       the young and the old
      dispatched by hearts  colder than stone

The Prophets gathered  on mount and valley
        In spirit and deep in the bones
As Pharaohs parade in Moses’ clothes,
       new Edomites tear down old homes1

The spirit of God   moves over the gas
        that’s made tears flow into salt seas
The Temple Mount groans,     Aqsa’s boulders moan
       and even the olive trees weep
How can we sing   the old songs of joy
         in lands without justice or peace?

Above the flood, doves’   cries echo in deeps
     At Hope and Love bound   and slaughtered like sheep
And butchered, or shot   in bed while asleep
     Across the land, blood’s    spilled, plague’s rot still creeps

Those scarred outside stand,  struggle, starve, and watch
         as those scarred inside sit and feast
The missiles’ red glare,  the hate in the air
         puts to shame all the wild beats

How long, O God, on   the earth of Mi’raj
       will our justice seem   just but a mirage?
The thirsty crowd ’round   and find naught but You
         but where is Your reckoning, so swift and true?2
The balance seems all torn apart and askew

How can they hide what is in such clear view?
 
On one side, it’s collateral,   on one, it’s tragedy
       Oppression’s clouds swarm all around, but gather in valleys
The sun’s hiding her face in shame,   moon’s scarred by what he’s seen

And this crop that’s been sown in blood, will reap ruin’s blazing sheafs
 
And if good for the cause, they’d try    to shoot Buraq down from the sky
        The perfumed stones, pines, sparkling eyes    may not yet wither on the vine

But when will concrete cages, walls     all crumble into dust and fly?
        When will the lightning answer the    thund’rous chorus of grieving sighs?
 
And in the face of   this unyielding pain
        we look to the skies   and pray for Your rain

In this year of   Alif doubled Kaf3
       we seek refuge with  the people of Kahf4
Before the day when   You unveil Your calf5
       Deliver us from   Your fury and wrath
       And all of the worshippers of golden calves6

One body the believers are, and so if I forget
     my siblings’ cries in Palestine, may I forget my left
if we forget those living shrines
      who stubbornly refuse death’s lies
may my right hand forget its skill
       and strength, for they are mine.

1: a reference to Pslam 137 here, in the next stanza, and the last stanza
2: a reference to Qur’an 24:39
3: ك ك ا=2021
4: The companions of the Cave (Qur’an 18)
5: Qur’an 68:42
6: Qur’an 7:148-153

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