By William James Martin

Where are the Israeli poets?
Those who would search their dreams
For memories lost or
Denied

Those who would look inward
To see the archetypes of shadows
Fleeing
In the night

Or who would search the rocky landscape of the mind
To see those whom they have chased away

Where are those who would survey the scrubgrass
And the pales horse
And the winter moon
And the olive trees
Planted a thousand new suns ago
By those who are no longer

But whose sweat lingers in the soil

Are there no Israeli poets?
Are they afraid?
Of looking inward

On a barren moonlit landscape
While wandering the winding paths
Stepping on rubble on ancient villages
Which are no longer

But villages whose souls still weep
For the familiar voices
They may sometimes hear

In the distance
When the wind is right

– William James Martin contributed this article to PalestineChronicle.com. Contact him at: wjm20@caa.columbia.edu.