Although I have never been,

I can smell the condensed aroma

of fresh bread in the bakery,

occupying its place in the noses of bypassers.

Although I have never been,

I can distinguish between the flavor

of black and green olives,

picked by gentle hands off of the giving trees.

Although I have never been,

I can gather the melodic harmonies

of the obedient robins,

chirping to the tone of a working man’s whistle.

Although I have never been,

I can envision the elegant evanescence

of the secretive sun,

kissing its beloved Mountain goodbye till morn’.

Although I have never been,

I can embrace the warm compassion

of the indigenous souls,

breathing in crime and yet, still exhaling righteousness.

Because even though I have never been,

I know Palestine will always be.