To the Newton of Gaza

The leaves dry down with crackling veins,

another child gets taken away

The leaves fall down with yellowing edge,

another window shatters and all get laid

The gunpoint aims to my soul

As the back of my head dreams of a night in Seoul

Driving past the light-filled shores

As the houses burn till reaching the child's core.

Words were never my greatest strength

But the arsonist's child will read them

And know that words may not picture the horror I felt

But his father's hands may, which had taken my light away.

Do you still feel the apricity on your cheeks?

As you run behind your kite, stepping on the blood of your beloved parakeet

Playmates you swore to grow up with and hold each other 

As you try to shield them from the debris of your shattered home.

Do you still feel the wind flow beneath your shirt?

As you unfold the mysteries of the universe with every blow

Soliciting the ever-wonderful life you dream of?

Twisting those wires to generate a coin of hope, taping batteries to connect hearts

Asking the wind blowing between your strands to show you the path.

Words were never my greatest strength

But I see in Hussam's eyes, the glistening of fresh, sweet water

Flowing from the river to the sea

Not with blood,

But with life.

And I wait to write about that glee.

Anika Zaman is a 12th grader studying at Birshreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College. Suggest her fun cat names at zanika369@gmail.com.