Hidden Gifts

She stepped in the room quickly
Walking in chin high, aware of her destiny
Ana Al Emrah, she whispers, I'm the woman
Her story will be told in tomorrow's headlines
And she will become a memory

Her clothing is heavy for a warm day
Gifts well hidden
As she sits and waits
Because this moment guides eternity

Beads of sweat gather above her brow
Flashes of lightning bring memories
Which invade her thoughts
She's been hungry all her life
And today she finds refuge in death

The planning was meticulousprecise
Watching the busiest hours
The most energetic times
See, father died unjustly
And baby brother just two weeks ago
She continues to watch time through a microscope
Praying the mother and children leave
Before the clock strikes death

Under her burqa
She hides three bombs attached to her chest
Nails lined through tape
And the will to succeed

Her eyes glare with anger, hurt
They no longer reflect a soul
But empty corners with a painful history
Constant bombings
And false hope

This desert queen timing death,
Ready.
The pendulum sways
Her thoughts persist
If only truths were told.

Foreign representatives practice theatrics
While her people suffer in famine;
Cruel and unusual punishments;
Tribunal sentences for association;
Sanctions for five thousand children annually.

Her gifts will be remembered in the media
Her purpose
Martydom
Freedom
Blessings
Pain
Ignorance
17 years young
and 30 seconds
to detonation.
Lights flicker
vision blurs
prayers cease.
She lets go
of the remote
and final memories
of screams
halted by the blast
bring her peace.

© 2004 Mariajulia Arisiaga Urías. From the Red CalacArts Publications chapbook ¿Under What Bandera? AntiWar Ofrendas from Minnesota y Califas.