—The Jerusalem Post
April 21, 2021

My friend Bilal, whose students

Asked me questions and told me stories

In English, has told us, his community

On Facebook, “Tell the world about us.

We are not just a breaking news

On the screens that shifts one by one.

We have our life,

Children,

And our dreams.”

In Brazil, the people

Place Akfana on the beach

In honor of the children who have been killed.

Attend to them, a man in a black-and-white scarf

Over his shoulders.

The flag blows in the sea wind

Behind a twenty-foot-long sign that reads “Why?”

My friend Ahmed did not hear from his family for days.

He appears on television anyway,

Wrecked, exhausted, sorrowful.

He declares his humanity.

I know he knows he is not allowed

To be angry. He has to,

He knows, stay cool.

Another friend changes her Facebook photo,

Declaring she stands with Israel.

Bilal writes,

This autumn

Was not only a month

Of fallen leaves, but for souls

And consciences as well.

Mohammed’s (in Istanbul) brother (in Gaza) sends him

Short videos of blazes that surround him.

Another friend (from here in the US) posts fireworks,

And for a moment I don’t know what they are

I remember a night

Three years ago, that long,

When I tried to film fireflies

On my iPhone, to send to Ahmed (in London).

I was just about to share the darkness

That intermittently opened with tiny dabs of light.

But then Mohammed (still in Gaza then)

Posted a video in real time

Of darkness with tiny dabs of light.

Light will always look bigger in darkness

It’s the thing we all look for.

I wondered if there are fireflies in Gaza too,

And the light is bombs

Being dropped

Without there being a word of it on anything

With words.

I deleted my little film.

I remember my initiation

To becoming a US citizen. How I was one

Of sixteen people with fair skin in the room

Of 200.

And how we all were instructed to rise

And sing the National Anthem of America

To a gigantic PowerPoint slide of Donald Trump.

And I remember worrying about everyone

At the rockets’ red glare part

And again at the bombs bursting in air part.

I wanted to say

We don’t have to sing this part.

This isn’t entirely necessary.

Like it was just bonus points

On a quiz.

Ahmed has told me about

Rockets dropping on bedrooms

Where his cousins were sleeping.

A friend posts a map of Israel

With dates and names of cities

In bright colors.

I don’t know exactly what’s being said here,

But I sense it’s about the people living,

Which has somehow become a problem.

In 2020

A scientific survey revealed

With the help of 1,548 responses

That there were more than 6,000 sightings

Of “the lightning bug,” said The Jerusalem Post,

Which goes on to say that the survey

Was designed to map

The presence of fireflies in Israel

And better understand

What environments are most

Hospitable for them.

Just weeks ago,

Bilal sent me photographs

Of his children standing under an olive tree.

Today from a courtyard

Of a UN shelter, he shares a photo

Of children after stopping a game with a ball

(One boy holds the ball)

As though a foul has been called and everyone

Has to stand still a moment.

I stand still

A moment.

The children are looking up.