Between…
The crowing of the cocks,
The ringing of the bells,
And the four-thirty call to prayer,
The night has been alive.
Death’s tentacles lie still at day’s dawning.
Whatever wrong stalks the Land of Palestine
Is hidden in plain sight…
Insidious,
Crawling,
Brutal in its banality.
What grossness visits us,
When we turn our demands
Into inalienable rights?
Using them as weapons to cleave
A people from their land,
A past from its future,
Creating a present that leaves a man with a holy name
Bereft of his capital,
And the rhythm of his soul,
For want of a piece of coloured paper.
This poem was written by Anne Mosley, a member of the Just Cycle group, who travelled through Palestine in 2019 on our advocacy cycle ride. It was inspired by the fact that Omar, the group’s gentle Palestinian driver in the West Bank, could not join the group in Jerusalem because he has the “wrong” ID.”
Anne lives in London and works as a facilitator and trainer. She has a particular interest in mediation across cultural and linguistic divides and feels especially drawn to the Palestinian narrative. Anne got the word Palestine tattooed on her arm at the end of the trip, and reflected, “Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for giving me the opportunity to start a process of informed understanding, and hopefully focused involvement in the people and the land whose name I now wear proudly and indelibly on my right shoulder.”
