Friday, October 5, 2012

The First Stone

A boy stands like a bear 
On its hind legs protecting its den.
Fingers hugging hard earth, 
He is poised for a fight-bearing teeth and growling.
In reality, that boy is just a cub barking at men strapped with murder,
2 extra clips of death on their belt and displacement a radio call away.

This boy holds hard earth until it hurts.
He keeps it close to his heart because it holds the wound in place.
And he will only let go when he sees the white of their eyes.

“Let he who is without sin, throw the first stone.”
He doesn't know if he is sinless, he doesn't care.
Sin is a flag that the enemy wears.
Sin is an army of cowards without faces.
The boy has heard about drive-by shootings
But he lives fly-by bombings.

In Palestine there is no forgetting
There’s a 9/11 every week.
Except the world does not call this group of murderers terrorists.
They are called brave and honorable.

A grandmother holds the boy’s dead and crumbled face in a rubbled place.
A boy who once stood as fierce as a bear protecting his home
Now lays broken at the foot of the river
Stones scattered all about his body.
1 for every heart that the enemy ripped out.

Hearts are just hardened earth
And he who throws stones throws hardened, dying, embittered love
That explodes with the force of a people 
Dying to be free.