Child's Loss

Palestinian children tackling grief

When your mother dies,

part of you must die with her.

But part of her lives on in you -

her strong roots still ground you,

though her branches no longer shelter your head.

You stand alone, swaying in the winds of exile.

You search the groves for her familiar form,

but find only empty holes where she once stood tall.

You cry out, but hear only hollow echoes …