I have to believe
I have to believe
-Shebana Coelho
october 20, 2023
I have to believe that
the rain will rain
and then stop
that it will flail at windows
down the trees
and stop
that the leaves will bend this way
and that
the green will become brown
and the brown will become green
I have to believe
the earth will move
us into a time
when we heal it
that
the silence will become song
even as
a weary wind kills us down
and we made it
from refusing to breathe
from refusing to see
from saying
Chup
to all the women in the lineage
be quiet
We kill children in
each other’s names
and laud
the power that makes
men blind
to their own abyss
how to sing them down
into humility
I have to believe
that you do what you can
love who you love
sing what wants to sing you
and that will make some dot
of difference
I have to believe
it matters to
sit and breathe
and think
of your friend who is breaking
in Ramallah
the boy
you met one day in Gaza
and the peace activist
in Israel whose brother said at his own funeral
even as he was murdered
he would not want
another
Palestinian life taken in his name
the uprising is in you
refuse to live
a silent life
refuse to ignore
your passion
refuse to ignore
what is in
the way of that passion
rise up and love yourself
enough
to live what you love
that passion is safety
that safety is passion
the revolution
begins with you
living
and
yes
i am going there
now
let me wade into these waters
in conversations
people have said
meaning to be kind
middle east
careful even of the order
in which they say
palestine israel
or
israel palestine
lest they give something away
I will tell you
the sides
we take in loving
are not to deny anyone’s loss
even though it seems that way
but how to enter
the story if not
from the house
where you live
the people
whom you love
the
view from your window
in truth
and fiction
you have to start somewhere
so I will tell you
I have lived and loved in Ramallah
in East Jerusalem
for the smallest blip of a summer,
I have talked to Mahmoud
and Ashraf in Gaza
and I will tell you
I have sung a song for them
at the last bombing
or the one before that
I will say that this blood
is older than this bomb or that one
that so many wounds begin in colonization
this haphazard remaking of
the world in the image
of power
and the world will not be re-ordered
by old men ordering things about
shouting this down
or that down
can they not see that?
can we not?
I will say this begins earlier
in the distances we live from nature
the lost land
the lost sea
the fallen ice
the dying tree
we live as if
concrete matters
as if
money matters
we forget
it hurts to love
it hurts to love
the natural resting place of the earth
even as it was made in chaos
is root
is stone
is
connection between root and stone
go now
into that
stone
into
the remembered dark
Rise up in what is left of light
and love yourself enough
to see
that you are
that
bird
made of
colors
afraid of the rain
resisting the
the urge
to dance
when everyone knows
that is what
peacocks
do in the rain
mor
we say in
Hindi
The desire
of peacocks
to unfurl their color
and dance in the rain
makes no sense
and yet
it is there
it is there
it is there
oh god
whether you
believe
or not
ya’allah
whether you believe or
not
jehova
brahma
names
you say
with the blood
on your hands
the deaths
at your door
the rubble
over you
and still
I believe
in the rain
Have you seen that moment
when the dance drowns in
the storm
when it is too
fucking
beautiful
to watch
the gauze
of green
that
that
yes
I have to believe the rain will rain
and then stop
that it will flail at the windows
down the trees
and stop
that the leaves will bend this way and that
that the earth will turn us into a time
when we heal it
I have to believe that time is now
that the silence will break
into song
even as
a weary wind kills us down
and we made it
and we can
unmake it
