My Home Country
My land is one where when
hearing its native tongue being spoken
all kinds of trees begin to flourish
and our cultures stand with pride.
My land is one where its people
know loss and grief of all colors.
They grow accustomed to red
and flush with glee when seeing a clear sky.
My land is one that puts itself in a corner.
It underestimates its advancement,
despite its potential
when it sees a pale pressuring hand,
easing down its progress
in doing so diminishing all the evidence.
My land is one of rich history,
backgrounds of discoveries and knowledge.
My land is one that holds its head high,
despite all efforts to shun them out.
My people are stubborn and loud
with their disagreements and their joys.
My people always have a fist formed.
They never know what enemies
they may meet coming from all sides.
After all, they reside in the heart of the middle.
My mother tongue weeps
when I find an english word
to replace its poetic concoctions.
My heart aches when I do not know
the meaning behind the melodies
the messengers of the language
sing day and night without tiredness;
the rhymes caressing their every wound.
My ignorance of such a language
holds me hostage in the background
as the actors and artists boast with its glory
with me merely whispers its strength
while using a foreign language
as my weapon of choice.
Every arabic syllable pains my heart.
It cries, “Weaponize me”
so I do.
“Makanak Khalee” as in
“Your place in my heart is empty”,
I say to my nations to reassure them of my love.
I remind them of Nizar.
I name you my country.
I name you my language.
I name you my nation.
I pronounce the nation
not as nations
but one unit;
our united arab world.
For I have a sister in Sudan that I smile at
and I have a brother in Bahrain that I wake to.
I have an uncle in UAE that I pray for.
I have a relative in Egypt that I greet.
I come from a nation
one that believes itself to be true,
however needs to stand united
to let our enemies stand in a line of queue,
one by one,
waiting for a chance
that we will not give.
That time has not passed.
I wish for that day.
I pray for it with all my strength,
however I do know that this faith
is one that can never end.
As I hold on to this dream,
my brother does the same.
My sister adds on.
My uncle marches strong.
This is a dream that will not die.
This is one that fills our blood.
When the time is right,
you will see what we’ve become.