The artisan is in every hand that crafts.
Some people craft dreams,
and make them fly with the wind.
The poems are dreams that inspire to fly.
My lady artisan of baskets,
is the hand of the dreamer;
that without secure future still make her baskets,
looking her hands and not the bleak reality
that hunt her surroundings
I salute the Palestinian women
you never stopped dreaming of a Free Palestine.
your wrinkled hands are the best example of time,
never deterred by the silence of death
that comes in waves to her land.
The Palestinian Art is vivid with colors;
The red of the blood, the green of Olives trees
All converging as one.
Thousands years of tears, can not
stop Palestinian’s hands from
Crafting new Dreams.
I say to this beautiful lady,
I give you my poem, my love, and a smile
Viva Free Palestine.
Marivel Guzman © 2012