NOT JUST PASSING Yesterday, a star said to the little light in my heart, We are not just transients passing. Do not die. Beneath this glow some wanderers go on walking. You were first created out of love, so carry nothing but love to those who are trembling. One day, all gardens sprouted from our names, from what remained of hearts yearning. And since it came of age, this ancient language has taught us how to heal others with our longing, how to be a heavenly scent to relax their tightening lungs: a welcome sigh, a gasp of oxygen. Softly, we pass over wounds, like purposeful gauze, a hint of relief, an aspirin. O little light in me, don’t die, even if all the galaxies of the world close in. O little light in me, say: Enter my heart in peace. All of you, come in! (Hiba Abu Nada, 1991-2023, killed in an Israeli airstrike in Khan Younes on October 20, translated by Huda Fakhreddine)
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Thank you, Robin! My heart has been opened, and broken. Be well.