A poem in gratitiude for my friend's faith,
vulnerability, and example in a harrowing time.
As you step gladly, bravely, gladly,
Looking for familiar faces, cherished friends or
Inevitably, the weary, hidden eyes of the frightened.
And there are more of the latter this spring,
More all the time now, by design:
Others, many others, are gone.
Your beloved community.
You have a thousand reasons to fear
For a future armies would impose,
For sacred harvests, forbidden:
Tiring of evening explosions, echoes of genocide,
And the grim checkpoints everywhere,
Altars to suspicion, where children not
Half your age question your humanity.
Your beloved community.
Instead you scan city markets for stories to tell,
For teachers, heroes and smiling eyes
You quickly commit to memory.
You stop midsentence to grab an old friend,
Hugging, clutching at one another.
The two of you remembering some delight
That joins you forever, a bond that will not break.
Your beloved community.
I follow you, understanding very little,
Reading only your laughter and their gratitude,
And aching to know what you know:
That the Kin-dom of Heaven is here,
in a city locked down;
That the communion of saints is
Nevertheless undeterred
By hideous walls and weaponized creeds;
And, yes, that every sacrament that matters,
Every one, is right here before you,
In your dear city, and in your hands, and in
Your neighbor's beleaguered but brightening eyes.
DGJ
For Zoughbi Zoughbi,
Founder and Director of
Wi'am: The Palestinian Conflict Transformation Centre
1 June 2025
Bethlehem, Palestine
