Written by: Emily Bentley
I have friends who came back from war
their eyes hollowed out like the stomachs of guitars
However unlike guitars
they no longer knew
how to make music out of themselves
they said
after sometime all dead hands look the same
if there was ever a time our lives hung on our resistance it is now
our water is poisoned, our prisons are overflowing with racism, our borders are sick of
cradling the bodies of children who dared to try and find refuge
Yes the darkness is loud
Yes the night is coming
But listen to that hymn of the blood in your wrists
it is telling you the greatest secret
that we are alive to help each other live
yes, we are weak,
yes, we are tired,
yes, we are all carrying grief in the peach pits of our hearts
but remember this
in the holy Quran Allah said
he created humanity out of his breath
and dust
if our lives are a collection of the breath of the most holy
and the soil of this earth
then our power is unlimited and our time is now
Resist.
