That could have been me.
Among the nurses working in the dark with nothing but flashlight to guide them.
Among the men and women grasping at the hands of those crushed around them.
Among the frightened and helpless and the brave and strong.
Yet here I am like so many others,
Children of the diaspora.
Glued to screens, trapped across oceans and seas
But feeling every shard in our hearts.
Immersing ourselves in guilt and shame for having ever left our homes.
Homes that we grew to respect, to love, to cherish after years of tumultuous growth.
The city of lost youth, of bursting blooms, of endless nights under the stars
Art exploding on the walls of every zawarib,
Stairs of turquoise, magenta, periwinkle blue
Beirut ya Beirut
My heart imploded with you
My soul left behind in the soil of your earth now scattered across the land
My heart imploded with you
We shook and trembled with you,
In Mourning we stand
Watching from behind a glass wall as if trapped in a haze.
I await the day Beirut where you will rise again,
The Phoenix in all its glory
Magnanimous.
Majestic.
Magnificent once more.
Free.
