Bombs knock on your door, do not listen child, do not shudder as their
screeching sounds announce and cheer your impending miserable end,
violently shaking the earth you lay your little head on to sleep like an earthquake.
Close your eyes child, listen instead to whispers of your grandparents,
whispers of prayers they first prayed years ago when their
feet were uprooted from soil their umbilical cords are buried in.
Whispers wishing for a time when they’ll return home
to breathe in air, drink water, and eat off their lost land
taken from their young mouths as they suckled like babies.

Do not fear being uprooted from your land,
& your roots burnt with hatred to wipe all trace
of your existence on this land your forebears
marked with their sweat, tears, and blood.
Do not fear your name being forgotten and
blown away with the sands of time, for just
as the Moon witnessed the existence of those
who walked on this land before you, so also
the Moon now bears witness to your struggle
& pain, and fear crushing your spirit.

Do not fear child, for when you no longer hear
the screeching bombs blasting down buildings
to bury you beneath piles of rubble and dust,
you’ll become one with the Moon and forever
glow over all corners of the earth, and all
who cared not for your existence will look up
at the night sky to bask in your eternal light.

What are you looking for?