It is not written that he beat against the side of the mount or collapsed to tear at the earth: Moses standing on Mount Pisgah, overlooking the land of Israel, exiled by God. It is not written that his skin cracked in the heat like desert floor, that his lips split like the seas.
There are many who stand at borders, exiled behind walls or fences, stuck between checkpoints. Their trunks twist like olive trees, their eyes pain with want, their arms reach to the sky in peace-prayers and guns point at them like long, terrified fingers.
There is violence in borders, in the invisible lines that separate countries. There is violence in the refusal to travel language. There is violence in the refusal to stand at the mount with the exiled.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment