The War Poems are a daily witnessing of the pain and suffering of two nations.
After waking to the news of the Israeli massacre by Hamas on October 7th, I had great difficulty expressing my pain, horror and absolute sorrow not only for Israelis whose families were killed in the most vicious of ways, but also for Palestinians because I knew what was to come and the feeling was terrifying. I felt paralyzed as a Jewish woman who had lived in Israel in the late 1980s and had become part of the peace movement, Shalom Achshav, Peace NOW. My relationships in Israel were with both Arab and Israeli, Muslim and Jew, side by side carrying peace and love in our hearts for each other.
Within days of October 7th, I began to process my feelings through my poetry. Every morning, I wake and read the news of the war, then meditate to feel what I have to say, and then I write. One poem for every day of this war. These have become The War Poems. I will continue to write until there is peace or a truce.
These poems are not about division or divisiveness. If anything, they are about our oneness as human beings.
War #1
war
is poverty
of the mind
War Poem #2
war
is the malnourished
heart
War #3
a mantra to help me remember who I am
in this time
of war
*
i
love
and within
her spirit
i
live
War Poem #4
how much does it cost
to wage war
to Love
War #5
War roams beneath the bared souls of flowers
War surrounds the heart like a tumor
War can be heard in the silence of death
War wears the petals of a child’s eyes forever closed
War spatters blood on the leaves of eucalyptus trees
War harvests misery
War is a broken ladder on either side
War is the baker making loaves for the hungry
War is the mother holding tightly to thorns
War is the scent of burning breath
War is not a revolution
War is not a revelation
War is cowardice in the face of love
War is a terrorist
War is the dog chasing its tail
War is a drifter looking for its dime
War is not for lovers
War feasts on love
War is rapacious
War meandered into our gardens and never left
War Poem #6
and yet
some still believe
there is a god
War Poem #7
from sand and dirt
they make ovens
to feed each other
bread
War Poem #8
how high the mountain rises
beyond its highest peak
on the ground
leaves swirl in the bellows
in between the two
love ripples submerged
War Poem #9
*
i do
not resist
i open
in the exhale
to exist
War Poem #10
*
what exists
in the hours of no longer
infinite loss
and the governments parlay
the back and forth of the broom
leaves blow to the curb
then cross the blood stained streets
we’ve snuffed the candles
no miracles
today
in the formidable play
of whose side of the street are you on
anyway
War Poem #11
between borders
the desert mountains
purple before the sun
nubian ibex edge into twilight
feeding into the awe
War Poem #12
*
vining bougainvillea
follow no borders
War Poem #13
i am walking inside
my memory
in dahab
on the red sea
its lips salting my skin
across the water is saudi arabia
behind me
mountains with roots
that berry in deserts of age
the sound of the oud
i am adopted
by a bedouin family
into the language of the heart
the sea is quiet
camels drape the land
with morning and mourning
War Poem #14
i’ve sat in arab villages
along the sea
drinking tea
eating dried fruits
with children and elders
with love in our eyes
and hope in our hearts
for each other’s survival
where saying i love you
is something to cherish
never to fear
War Poem #15
the holy scrolls
of grief unwind
widows gather
like stuck keys on a typewriter
over graves
and flowers
War Poem #16
beneath the rubble
petals flower
deals are made
in water
grandmother shields
a child’s eyes
from the glare of inhumanity
War Poem #17
(L’Chaim)
who is allowed to live
and who to smell jasmine on the vine
or drink mint tea in the sinai
or make love beneath a bridge
in the shadow of the moon
where on god’s green earth exists
not a prison for the poor
where babies are not sold and soldiered and pawned
at the very same time
in different lands
in different wars
the precipice licks ice cream from its cone
waiting at the head of the line for the big bonanza
the oil companies gaggle
the war machine revs its hi$$$ and death engines
politicians clamor for the golden toilet seat
in a genocide to which they’ve cheered l’chaim
War Poem #18
the moon comes up from the margins
lighting its way into consciousness
on earth
this once revered and holy place
now just a place
to bury the dead
and sweep the ashes of war
War Poem #19
if i could sit with you
i would bring you bread
and tea with rumaanim
felafel and warm pita
and gifts for your family
if
is such an empty word
it resigns itself to failure
War #20
leaves blow down from their trees
crossing fields and hoof prints of deer
up the coyote trail past the quail
i watch them traverse this desert landscape
driven this way and then
beyond my sight
where all I can feel
is their fear in the silence
between the gnashing teeth of bombs
War #21
i’ved counted the seeds of the rimon
in each seed
a voice
a mantra
of love
compassion
and a warning
War #22
daybreak slices its way
like a candied layer cake
across the desert sky
one might think
that all is well
in the world
the fruit trees gave
farmers harvested the fruit
pies were made
peaches canned
the first frost is now days old
but i still have not
put a mezuzah on our door
War Poem #23
yesterday’s poem
was just
silence
on the page
War Poem #24
it seems there is a paywall
on peace
War Poem #25
i have burned
all the propaganda
beneath moons
of bloodshed
for love
War Poem #26
if the trunk of even
the oldest olive tree
is cut down
it does not die
from its roots
shoots arise to grow
ensuring its continued existence
and from the shatter
of hearts
seeds
War Poem #27
without anesthesia
let us hear the truth
about war
War Poem #28
this big coyote
walks across the field
turns at the stand of trees
takes a few long steps
sniffs the wind
crosses over
in the secrecy of grasses
for the hen house
War Poem #29
we wait
for no one
is coming
War Poem #30
the desert air is dry
it will not pretend
to be your savior
or hear sorrow
or wet the wadis
with your tears
but if you are still
in the heat of its winds
it will provide
sails to navigate
the waters of the soul
War Poem #31
it’s been 36 days since
War Poem #32
to write the unspeakable
to bring
my horror
to the page
they
burned jewish babies
in kitchen ovens
and in turn
as the merry-go-round
of war
with one bomb
or one thousand
ten thousand babies
became black smoke
billowing toward
no one’s heaven
War Poem #33
war
is not
a metaphor
War Poem #34
in oneness
transcendence
of dueling narratives
War Poem #35
how does one sleep
on rubble and ash
on the sharp edge
of fear
how does one sleep
waiting for answers
from the dead
how does one sleep
in the searing divisions of a nation
created for survival
how does one sleep
after the cries of babies
are silenced
by grenades
how does one sleep
after walking through
the mutilation of a dream
how does one sleep
when the pillows of justice
are covered in bloodshed
how does one sleep
when sorrow is the sunrise
and terror the rising moon
how does one sleep
when peace is war
and war is peace
how does one sleep
in a world hell-bent
on destruction
how does one sleep
when there is no comfort
for the living
how does one sleep
at all
War Poem #36
(peace offering dream)
i plait november’s red willows
into my greying hair
crouch then crawl
inside the desert’s holy waters
where there a fallen bough
of juniper curls naked to my waist
then into blue of early evening light
high at the mountain’s peak
upon the footsteps of the ages
rock of sages and breath
of the wild ram and sallow hiss
of snake and faraway draw
i lay my body’s gown
of magpie of coyote
they sing their sonata
such a wild sky
i offer my soul to join
we sing for mercy for peace for love
to no one at all who hears
the gods are all dead
the living tortured remnants of ghosts remain
War Poem #37
place your burden
and yours
and yes
yours
all the sorrow
tears
scars
blood
all the devastation
of war and longing
for peace
into this basket
pomegranate seeds woven
in fractals of flowers
let us mix them
then spill onto earth
these burdens
to see
the sorrow
tears and blood
that all the burden
is one burden
a collective burden
undifferentiated
by place or culture
but as the burden belonging
to all of humanity
War Poem #38
in the name of Rachel Corrie
in the name of Ahed Tamimi
in the name of Israeli mothers
in the name of Palestinian mothers
in the name of all the children
cease fire now
in the name of humanity
let us bow down before sanity
like Abraham did before the people
so that he could bury his wife
so that we may bury this war
so that we can forgive
traumas we’ve carried
since gods became mortals
for the sake of the living
for the wail of the wolf
for the tender buds of spring
let us forgive and let go
lift this fog from the rivers
shine a light so bright that no soldier can see
a light so candescent that governments can hide nothing
a light so fierce that shadows cease
a light so radiant we it blinds all hatred
i toss the seeds to the unfair four winds
to heal
to bury the dead
to care for the living
to mend our hearts
to remember our breath
to engage in love
to love
to love
to love
and never more
raise arms
in war
War Poem #39
children
how I weep the weight
of what would have been
this season’s olive harvest
none emerges
who know the curatives
for this impermanence of peace
so i must cure my own
in your name
from the salt of my tears
and the briny muscle of my heart
and in your name
i will plant young trees of olive
of fig and carob
bare rooted all
as is my soul
beside it i will toss the seeds of barley
to the earth, then braid challah
from the grain sprouting in your name
for shabbat for the healing
that must come
for love for unity
that may not ever grow
War Poem #40
rage turns
to flame
flowering
in the spinning
splintered wheels
of desperation
in the swelter
the swale
of divide
War Poem #41
*
in the distance
the mountain trees
change color before becoming
the moon
War Poem #42
(Galilee Fumitory, an extremely rare flower in Israel’s Hanita Forest near Lebanon)
did you mean by saying
from the river to the sea
that you yearn to discover
the flowering path
that you have seen
the wild tulips hatch
upon the northern hills
and spotted the rarest flower
like a violet-colored peace
so extremely rare
seen by too few to believe
it could be real
when you saw the flowering lily
felt its petals in your soul
that light and grace grow plentiful
from the hills of galilee
south into the sea
did it show you that of flowers
all are we
i’m certain this must be
what you meant when you said
from the river to the sea
of flowers all are we
of flowers all are we
