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Two more poetic responses/actions - from Fadwa Tuqan: http://www.sakakini.org/poets/fadwa-index.htm Enough for Me Enough for me to die on her earth be buried in her to melt and vanish into her soil then sprout forth as a flower played with by a child from my country. Enough for me to remain in my country's embrace to be in her close as a handful of dust a sprig of grass a flower. The Deluge and the Tree When the hurricane swirled and spread its deluge of dark evil onto the good green land 'they' gloated. The western skies reverberated with joyous accounts: "The Tree has fallen ! The great trunk is smashed! The hurricane leaves no life in the Tree!" Had the Tree really fallen? Never! Not with our red streams flowing forever, not while the wine of our thorn limbs fed the thirsty roots, Arab roots alive tunneling deep, deep, into the land! When the Tree rises up, the branches shall flourish green and fresh in the sun the laughter of the Tree shall leaf beneath the sun and birds shall return Undoubtedly, the birds shall return. The birds shall return