Sawt al-Hurriya
A bird sings from no fly zone between the temples, churches and mosques
Shoulder to shoulder with Heaven, above the guns below
She is a ballad in the chest of an open sky
Born of coral clouds
The wind that blows through a quiet in the streets
A niching in your throat
The flag trembling in a cage
Is still a prison murmuring, sobbing in the distance
Scarlet dust on featherless flesh
Breathing debris and ash, scattered bones, sweat, city
Sad songs, she is a sound that hungers
To soothe, to touch the truth with sweeping wings in the shape of a prayer
God is not a promised land
Is how we reason love beyond borders and bridges wicked with treaties
There's a language for boundaries crossed by foreigners unwelcome
We curse them in spirit, talk, song, glance, and dance
Whispered in stories of children listening
Humming relics of survival, a shrill utterance
Courage is a melody arranged by pulse or purpose
Hovering over waves of hope and peace
What flies and flies, recurring echoes of dreams
The voice is a weapon, a howl that rings in your ears
And wonders if you have a heart to stand in