A poem by Jess Semaan
I wake up at the crack of dawn
To ask God
In the silence of a crack of dawn
I hear the bombs all over Ghaza
I ask God what came to a being to rejoice at a blood
I wake up because I can’t sleep longer than three hours
And now I hear there is an eclipse
And a yoga teacher asks me to manifest
I manifest
I am falling
and
failing
To manifest
I picture Ghaza’s sea wanting to crawl back into the earth to unsee
The horrors
Even a sea cannot comprehend
What came to a being to rejoice at innocent blood
I will emphasize innocent to inch you towards empathy
I wake up at the crack of dawn when it’s silent
To whisper in God’s ear
You for real?
Does God hear the whispers of the children of Ghaza
Too thirsty to scream
Precious are their bodies
Soon to be wrapped
Oh wait there is no one to wrap them
Soon to decompose
Will I smell their body at the crack of dawn
Does silence make the smell more pronounced
More nuanced
More blood
I wake up at the crack dawn
Thinking is it Beirut yet
Is it enough blood to quench a thirst
A thirst of a being
A thirst of evil
God I withdraw my question of is there evil
I spare you an explanation
For I have seen evil the face of evil
Of those around me
Who hear in the cries of Ghaza
More victory
Does the victor ever win
I wake up at the crack of dawn
In the silence
I hear the words of Ahed Tammimi
Every colonial empire must fall, will fall
I wonder what Ahed is doing at this moment
Can I trade my being’s safety for truth
For dignity
The crack of dawn cracks into a morning
Of noise
That isn’t Ghaza