Holy Slingshots and Bastard Bullets

by Taxi

The Palestinian today is a human slingshot and the stone in hand is the wrath of the land upon the cruel invader.

To have endured close to seven remorseless decades of daily brutality and death and to not have surrendered deserves earnest applause and fecund tears from the high sky.  The patient ones are rewarded by the gods, they say.  If this be true, then the enduring practice of Sumud has by now become an added survival organ in the Palestine body.  Sumud as dear and silent clinging to life.  A fixated insistence on justice.  Sumud as higher love.  The  virtue that needs to be taught to child and suffering hostage alike.

“All ownership is god’s”, a Palestinian lady once told me.  “But we inherited the guardianship of this land from our ancestors – this land is our duty; this land is our living history”; she added, “Palestinian bones are in this earth, old ones – they’ve turned into diamonds”.

History as divine personal memory.  History as sad story and song and blood on the grass.  History as white bone and ghost of chaos and comfort.

The insanity of the enemy will not be allowed to contaminate or consume – it will be fought with every human fiber, with every rock and grain of sand stained with the blood of Palestine.

Cannon and missile and violent lies cannot extinguish the light in the eye of the dreamer of freedom.

Bells incessantly clang in the enemy’s nightmares:  dear Palestine, you confuse the enemy with your defiance even as you sleep with tears of love and loss.  Sumud is the mighty shield of the bravest, forged by sheer human will and the unshakable aspiration for liberty.

Even as you weaken some days, even now as the enemy oils his gun to use against your soft hands clenching rock and rage, resist – resist as your land calls you to resist.  Resist as the land hands your bruised palms a perfect rock.  Resist.  Resist insatiably, perpetually resist – eat, drink, breath, dream and dance resistance.  Resist even as a deadly storm is gathering above you.  There is nowhere to go to and no other choice but to resist.  Defy, defy, defy!  Defy the hate and the eyes of the enemy – defy the walls and the torture chambers – defy the grave and the chains around your spleen – rebel against the tank, the bulldozer and their rolling misery.  Rebel against the monstrous jets over your ancient gardens.  Rebel against everything your enemy throws at you – even if all you have in hand is a slingshot.  Holy slingshot against bastard bullet.

Against all odds resist, resist, resist!

They who resist live a life of high danger – but in a world full of high possibility.

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