Dreaming of Palestine

Dear Cousin
Settle.
Heavy dream-seeking
lashes still cling to tears.
Now,
within a short, sweet breath
see her there slowly unfold-
Either mother, sister, wife, lover
but always legend,
Your North.
Behind these eyes,
waves of blackness, her hair tumbling, slithering,
leaving in its wake a perfume:
Oranges.
Follow her into your sleep;
charcoaled eyes beckon over bare shoulder.
Follow unburdened, without yoke
without master.
To the shore,
through gardens and groves,
to Egypt and back.
Once...Once...
In slumber seek her still-
through holes in barbed wire
and cracks in a wall.
She slips, she slides
a little further away-
through checkpoints and crumbling city streets.
There is still her scent,
oranges and saltwater and
the echo of a memory of laughter.
Gardens and groves long disappeared,
let her grow, reside
Always
in fertile soil of the heart.
My Palestine.

-RDW