Issa… Jesus he was called On the altar of “chosen-ness” he was crucified Time and time and time again ***** His face was Palestinian Olive, with a hint of agony Yet Years of torture fail to conceal the glow The purity of his soul peeks through The sparkle in his eyes invites you to dive in ***** His pain was Palestinian The colour of his words Grips your guts And squeeze… squeeze … squeeze Until you lose consciousness You fall on your knees Begging for forgiveness ***** His faith was Palestinian “Their sadism too much to bear In the street I waited for a car No way out but to kill myself Twilight hour the fall of night The call to prayer woken my heart Healing balsam caressed my soul Maybe…. In this life… still…there is something I can do” ***** His heart was Palestinian Carved with sorrow Filled with love Flames of rage and roars of thunder Hound his torturer to his grave ***** His tears were Palestinian His first crucifixion… he was only fourteen On the second, he was nineteen From then on He was crucified every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year ***** His dignity was Palestinian Anguished by his rapists With his broken back he stood tall His wounds run deep… his head held high He saw the rainbow in the horizon When all gave up he gave them hope ***** His smile was Palestinian It has been said: “To smile when confronted with most severe oppression Is and act of Resistance Rooted In unparalleled beauty” * The smile of Issa Was Palestinian ***** His resilience was Palestinian “As he punched me in the face I felt stronger As he kicked me in the stomach I felt stronger As he slashed my arm I felt stronger”, he said ***** His hope was Palestinian Insha’Allah, ya rab, Alhamdulillah Bouncy words sprinkled around Buds of trust bloom and grow His broad grin whiffs you to life His nightmares close their eyes His tales of horror lie to slumber When all lost hope he saw a future I saw Jesus today