I'm going to use my beautiful things

Ein Qiniya

I just moved into a new house

and my pottery, from Palestine

they are still wrapped up the newspaper they came home in.

From last year

from one house, to another

from one country, to another.

I wanted to wait until I had my forever home,

whatever that may mean.

I don’t think we can really believe in “forever,” anymore.

Or at least that was what I told myself.

Really, I’m afraid to use them.

I’m afraid they will break,

and I don’t know when I be back in Palestine again.

When my heart will be able to walk in the door

and feel at home again.

In the loving embrace of those who share a part of my heart.

In the soft welcome of the heat,

the dust, the dirt,

and the Jerusalem stone.

These things that are too precious to me,

it is not their bold design that I am afraid to unwrap.

It is the memories they remind me of, the time I spent there,

with the people I love.

Those are my most fragile, most precious ties of all.

The ones I most long to hold onto.

I’m going to use my beautiful things

Even if I am risking that they may chip, or break.

Even if it hurts my heart, even if I ache

To be reminded of such a beautiful place

and her people,

who right now, are suffering.

Who too, had beautiful things

lovingly on display.

Who too, had memories, and dreams,

which now lie broken, beneath the rubble.

Because to keep them stored away,

to always wait until tomorrow,

what point is having them at all?