Fidaa E., Beir el Saba’, Cedar Hill

When I return to Palestine, I will no longer be a refugee
maybe that day, I’ll know what it is to be “free”

That day, I will taste the water
I should have always drank

That day, I will inhale the crisp air
that was always mine

That day, I will smell the fragrance
of the trees that shaded my forefathers

That day, I will till the land
where my grandparents should have been buried

That day, I will touch the soil
that never should have left the shadows of my nails

That day, I will eat the fruits that were sweetened
by the rays of the sun they couldn’t stop from reaching us

That day, I will wade in the sea
where my dreams should have sailed and thoughts wandered

That day, I will look at a horizon
not disturbed by gray buildings and tin roofs

That day, I will climb dunes upon dunes of sand
that once imprisoned my uncle

That day, the desert of my ancestors who bore me
will have a deeper spiritual meaning

That day, I will sleep with the comfort of silence
and only bright stars hovering above

That day, I will stare up at my shining moon
and see it through eyes that know no sorrow

One day, I will return and it will be the happiest of days
because on that day, I will finally be whole.