This New Year

Last year, I wrote this poem:

While I still sign on to much of what I said then, this year I am more confused than last year. I do not know if Two States is still feasible, and I have seen more of the horror and sadness of what it means for the occupation to continue, and I feel less compelled and more repelled by flags of any kind. The challenges I am facing are more direct, and the experiences I have had over the last year have both strengthened me and weighed me down; I am closer to the earth as I move, I think, slower, more solid. Which is good and not good and also good.

My beard is also, unfortunately, not much better than it was a year ago. I still have hope, though. On all fronts. And justice and love, yes it all still comes down to love and justice.

For this new year, I will affirm the majority of 22-year-old-me’s declaration, and add that I want to see Susiya stay standing, for the 918 Firing Zone to be cancelled, for the Bustan neighborhood in Silwan to remain the Bustan neighborhood, not some sick-sweet tourist site on the rubble of Palestinian homes as the municipality plans prescribe, for ELAD to begin to crumble, and the JNF too, for the torture of Silwan to be eased. I want more awareness of what is wrong, and more celebration of what is right. I want to see and hear more Arabic in the streets of Jerusalem and I want the violence that has lately been escalating on a local and national level to be recognized as the horrific collective illness that it is. I want hope to overflow, as silly as that often sounds. I want health and safety for those who I love, and for those who I do not love, and for those who I do not know. I want to pass through the my IDF-ordeals with a smile and and a wink and a peaceful calm. I want to learn some Yiddish. I want to meditate more. I want to have more parties on my roof and have my friends attacked less by hateful people and eat more veganly and laugh more and figure out a way to conquer sleep and to spend more time with people who are four or five. I want my words to be measured and filled with love and I want this place to be measure and filled with love and I this year I want measurement filled with love. May this year be filled with measure and with love.

Advertisements