Artist: Alaa Kamal El Jabari

When the war ends,
I will paint the city’s walls
With all the colors we forgot.
In every chest, I will plant quiet,
In every garden — an olive tree
to remember us forever.

When the war ends,
I will buy fifty-two thousand roses
And lay one on each martyr’s grave
And on every corner of every street.

I will hang our martyrs’ photos
On a long, white tail of light
From the north to the south.
With a brush dipped in star light
I’ll write their names in the sky.

I will paint yellow sunflowers
Over the gray bullet holes
That hold our memories.
I will sing songs to the sea of our land
And teach the mornings how to find us.

I will wash sorrow
From the broken tiles of the city’s streets.
I will lift the scorched stones,
The shards of shattered windows,
The dust that once lined a child’s bookshelf
To find scraps of paper, names in looping script
smudged with blood,
The last words of those who never came home.

I will turn every scream
Into a laugh.
I will draw smiles
With fingers dipped in light
On mouths that forgot how.

To the tents, we will say:
Farewell,
No more shelter, no more waiting.
The wind will no longer whisper through your threads,
Nor will the cold fold us into your arms.
We are not coming back.

And to Gaza, we will say:
Hello,
O warmth of the soul,
We have returned.
Did you long for us?