Artist: Ismael Álvarez, Flyers for Falastin

O God,
raise us up to You
as You raised Jesus, son of Mary.
Wash us with the water of hope
and clothe us in a white garment—
not a shroud. 

O God, 
turn us into birds 
so we may, with our beaks, gather
the remains of the martyrs, 
their limbs, 
their laughter, 
the scent of musk in their torn clothes,
so we may remake them 
as they were meant to be—

Whole
with faces and fingers, 
torsos and legs. 
So a daughter may smile 
at her father’s final return.

Complete
so a wife may press 
one last kiss of farewell. 
And a mother may ululate with joy
upon finding a single shoe. 

O God, 
make us hover in the air 
so our feet do not tread 
on a child’s skull, 
or erase 
the final footsteps
of a woman on a street corner 
from whose torn belly 
a dangling umbilical cord ends in a lifeless child. 

O God, 
make me a black cloud 
so I may finally pour out 
my heavy tears
as rain. 

Editor’s note: Mothers, daughters, and wives of martyrs often celebrate and ululate upon finding anything that belonged to their lost loved one, even a single shoe.