Day 242

(Dana Saleh)

A friend sends me a video of a song
A young Palestinian woman
Voice clear as a stream
rippling down from the mountains
Her words precise:  Hold on
Hold on  Just a little longer
We’re going home, she sings
Child at the edge of starvation
Hold on  Mother whose three children
are dead, asleep in their tent, arms
locked around each other   Father
clutching his small son, their bodies burned
so badly they can’t
be separated, the doctor
wrapping them together
in a white sheet, tears
streaming down his face   Hold on   
The sky that is blackened now
will be sapphire and starry again  Hold on 
Stay   Stay with me   Take the next breath
Hold on  (Survival
is a form of resistance   Singing
is a form of resistance    Laughter
a form of resistance)