Tuesday, 30 April 2024

One Poem by Lynda Tavakoli

 



UNBROKEN

For Gaza

 

You may think you have silenced us,

but the voices of our forefathers

still sing along the sheared streets

of your destruction.

 

You may think you have orphaned us,

but every soul owns its paradise

and every loss still breathes

in those who are left behind.

 

You may think you have famished us,

but our stripped bones will one day

permeate the soil, nurturing the promise

of new beginnings.

 

You may think you have demolished us,

but even the crush of what remains

can learn to be again its own foundation

and a country reborn.

 

You may think you have buried us,

but we will ghost your consciousness

in the small hours of your sleeping,

haunting all of your imaginings.

 

You may think you have broken us,

but we are stronger than you know.

Stronger because of you.

Stronger, despite you.






Lynda Tavakoli lives in County Down, Northern Ireland, where she facilitates an adult creative writing class and is a tutor for the Seamus Heaney Award for schools.

A poet, novelist and freelance journalist, Lynda’s writings have been published in the UK, Ireland, the US and the Middle East, with Farsi and Spanish translations. She has been winner of both poetry and short story prizes in Listowel, The Westival International Poetry Prize and runner- up in The Blackwater International Poetry Competition and Roscommon Poetry Competition.

Her poems have also appeared in The Irish Times, New Irish Writing. Lynda’s debut poetry collection, ‘The Boiling Point for Jam’ is published by Arlen House and includes these three poems about the different aspects of war.




 

 


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