A butterfly can fly everywhere.
Open your window and look at me!
Why can’t you see me
when I am so close to you?
Why does no one see us, feel us?
Your eyes are blind.
Look, here I am
but you will only see me later,
maybe in heaven or the end of the world
or when we are free, you and me.
My home will still bleed in pain.
The butterfly will fly solo
unlike those escaped Gazans
seeking safety when nowhere is safe.
No home or shelter can protect them.
They live open to the sky,
no clean water, healthy food, clothes.
Shall the beautiful colors of the butterfly
soften the blow of our homelessness,
offer strokes of happiness in our survival?
Gaza, my beloved home!
Shall our steadfastness shine through,
glow like her wings?
When a butterfly takes flight,
her wings open to the sky,
we delight in her freedom.
PALESTINE, my precious house, my homeland!
We Gazans long for the land of our grandfathers.
One day we’ll fly home,
unconfined, like the butterfly,
wings spread, no longer invisible.
Free of the fence that surrounds us,
we will fly like butterflies.