by Ralph Dranow
I am a three-year-old Palestinian boy,
shattered body a sorrowful song
sung by an Israeli bomb.
I am an 18-year-old Israeli soldier,
the stench of death seeping into my nostrils,
invading my whole being.
I am a Palestinian mother, my heart weeping,
my six-year-old daughter fainting from hunger,
my infant son fading fast.
I am Benjamin Netanyahu,
clinging to the life raft of power
in a turbulent sea.
I am a horrified Jewish-American,
the thread of connection sewn into my cells,
demanding an end to the killing.
I am an Israeli settler in the West Bank,
wishing the Palestinians, like noxious insects,
would just go away.
I am an evangelical Christian,
eager for Hamas to be demolished,
so that the Kingdom of Christ can manifest in Israel.
I am a Hamas soldier,
enclosed inside the righteous armor of my cause,
prepared to kill and die for the liberation of Palestine.
I am an Israeli peace activist,
murdered by Hamas on October 7th,
my body destroyed, my spirit refusing to die.
Ralph Dranow works as an editor, writing coach, and poetry teacher. His poems and articles have been widely published. He lives in Oakland, California with his family.
