Roots of an ancient olive tree in Palestine. Photo: بدارين  Creative Commons S.A. 4.0 International

A child is born
and comes to his life
somewhere in Gaza.
His mother lies bleeding
next to an olive tree.
He doesn’t know
that the tanks
will move over him,
over his mom’s body,
crushing them both.
He doesn’t know
that he will die
the moment after
he is born.
She wanted to
name him Saied,
which means happy,
but he was never happy
as his mother’s blood
watered the olive tree.
The tree will tell
the story of Saied
and his mother
and their land.
Saied will be a tale
but he will never know.