The port is quiet. Fishing boats sit empty,
tossed along the shore.
A blood red sun sets.
Waves painting the shore whisper freedom.
But the gunboats, out of sight,
are not far. No, they are not far.
Bending toward justice,
the youth rise up to meet the waves.
Tomorrow is a new day. And gunboats
can not stop the rising tide.
Gaza rising, a new day.
Thursday, June 02, 2011