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.