Friday, December 9, 2011

Could It Be Her

Could it be her?                               
Over there next to that child  
That elderly woman with the embroidered dress
It looks like the one Grandma always wore
The traditional dress which represents our hometown
The detail, the patterns, the style are distinctive to each town

Could it be her?
Look at those eyes they look like Grandma’s eyes
They are hazel brown eyes rich with color
There is happiness and sadness within those eyes
For deep within them are our memories
The Nakba, the Six-Day War, our family history

Could it be her?
Her face looks so much like Grandma’s face
There is smoothing warmth in her look
The complexion, the lines, the wrinkles, each tell a story
Like the rings of a tree they have a history
Her wedding day, my father’s birth, death of Grandpa

Could it be her?
Her hands look like Grandma’s hands
Look at her hands all aged, spotted and dark
Those are the hands of a worker in the fields
Those are the arms that comforted me
The hugs, the kisses while in those arms

Could it be her?
Her voice is much like Grandma’s voice
It’s soft and soothing yet commanding
I slept listening to her voice tell me folk tales
From her words I learned who I am
Our traditions, our culture, our existence as a people

Could it be her?
It could not be for my Grandma has long passed on
Her dress still lives in our clothing
Her eyes still give us vision
Her face still gives us hope
Her arms still gives us strength

Could it be her?
It is her within us all
We are her through our traditions
We are her through our folk tales
We are her through our weddings
We are her, we are her, we are her
           Attorney Fadi Zanayed, June, 1998

(  © Copyright, Fadi Zanayed.  Publication or distribution of this material is allowed provided its content is not altered and the source and its author are cited.)

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