(Dedicated to the people of Palestine)
By Nick Nash
Dotted on a barren hillside, a group of flowers live,
Spread in bright red families, they are always active.
In the cold of winter they rise to life, defying every odd,
And remain in place, for the native race, and those from far abroad.
For time untold, the group had lived in the sprawling meadow,
Outside of ancient town Bil'in, from a time quite long ago.
Spread out among the many valleys, they adopted every village,
The family living near Bil'in, felt their role a privilege.
In December dawns the darkest month, with nights both dark and cold,
And when hope among their village fades, they take a step that's bold.
To remind the humans whom they watch over, to never give up love,
They slowly change to full crimson shade, with blessings from above.
And then the coming of warming spring, they slowly fade from sight,
As those who have been slumbering, react to God's great light.
New life comes forth with diversity, and there's great warmth in the air,
And the new life takes on the timeless task of balancing despair.
The anemones then fade to sleep, while others take their place,
In a cycle that is old as time, and known by the native race.
While asleep, they dream great dreams, of a world filled with peace,
Where nations have stopped useless wars, with hostilities that cease.
The air is clear, the water pure, and no one lacks for food,
Schools flourish with eager students, each in a joyful mood.
A sturdy home and the needs of life, are enjoyed by every family,
And life moves on free from strife, with no need to be angry.
A dream you say, that will never happen, but are you really sure?
Consider the life of the anemone, and the weather they endure.
During winter nights, they spring to life, awaking from their dream,
When others need to hibernate, awaiting spring's sunbeam.
Next time you pass the family, that chose to be your friends,
Send a thought of love to them, as they truly are Godsends.
For outside of sight and bathed in light, Jibril looks on with love,
His messages to those below have arrived on wings of dove.
For now, the anemones sleep and dream, of a world filled with light,
And in due time they will spring to life, bathed in winter's moonlight.
Until that time, try to hold the line, and seek strength in your prayers,
For understand the angels and the flowers work in pairs.
- Nick Nash contributed this poem to PalestineChronicle.com.