Little Hands


I am not in Gaza at moment. It’s hard to be watching the situation from afar knowing that my family, friends, and people are going through toughest times. 
A mother to be, what breaks my heart the most is the scene of children being slaughtered along with their families.  I don’t have much to say, I’ve a poem. 

Little hands
soft and round
cupped crayons,
in the corner of the paper,
drew smiley sun painted yellow
butterflies, swings, and green meadows,
huddled family, a house with small windows,
and a cloudless sky with a rainbow,

Little dreams,
thoughts of the unknown
as adventure bigger than their small world
Where they roam, float, and soar,
Laugh and agelessly grow,


Calloused hands
Found the house of small windows
tore the crayoned rainbow
Soft and round
became soon pillars of clouds,
buried into the ground
so small a shroud
so quite a sound,

Little souls
soared with the dews
roamed with the dune
left our world too soon,

Little hands
now will remain young forever,
no longer drawing dreams on paper,
Little hands,
cup your hands together
and pray for their hands to be tied
forever and ever.


2 responses »

  1. Pingback: A Poem from Gaza | Visioni Uncategorized

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