A message to Greta Thunberg... I love you, Greta!

To Greta,
I love you,
not for the beauty of your face that resembles the morning waking up to the tune of rain,
nor for your eyes that plant a color in the wind that the sky has never known before,
but for your soul...
your soul that resembles a blank page in a stained book,
or a light in the pitch darkness
, for your nobility that cannot be bought,
and for your voice that does not compromise.
I love you
because you stood up
when the world sat on the seats of impotence,
and you screamed
when the minarets, pulpits, and poems fell silent. I love you because you resemble the rare thing that does not come often:
the truth when spoken in the face of falsehood, love when given unconditionally, and revolution when it is for everyone. Greta , all women do not concern me, except for you . There is something in you that cannot be written, but I am trying.

Greta Thunberg, O lady of the seas, O you whom the waves call out to whenever they rise and fall, and whenever the whirlwinds rage, O you who are so beautiful, O you who are noble and blessed prophetess, in a time of decline and collapse, O you who have courage that has exposed the Arab rulers of the falsehood of arrogance, violence and harshness towards their people, and humiliation and disgrace before the enemies of the nation, O you who are the melody of the seagull at dawn, when it prostrates to the wind, and calls you by the name of freedom, if courage were a crown, I would have placed it on your head, O you who are pure voices that have split the silence of the dry land, as if it were good news for the birth of an idea that walks on two feet with the courage of prophets, and stares into the eyes of the world as the moon stares into the blackness of the night, fearing neither decline nor collapse, if humanity were a pearl, I would have hung it on your chest, O you who have the beautiful round face, the moon is jealous of the light of your face, even though it swims beside your boat decorated with the flag of Gaza, O queen of captains, and lady of ships floating on the waters of wrath, who leads the world With sails of determination and pride, you who are not from our time, but you came to us from a time when the word was pure like a protected water, and man lived for the earth and not for its destruction, and you were the voice that broke the walls of silence and stillness, and shattered the cruelty of hearts made of oil, interests and smoke, O Greta, you who moved the ice of the north with a heart of fire, and carved in the conscience of humanity a verse that says, if a female wants she becomes a slave, and if a child gets angry she becomes thunder, lightning and an earthquake, O you who moved mute consciences in us, and dug up ashes that slept on our hearts for decades, so we began to read about you and flip through your pictures on the Internet, and we saw you standing angrily in the United Nations, a proud child, and we saw you detained in Malmö-;-... in Amsterdam... in Germany... in Holland, and in the courts of Britain you stand confident and courageous, and a demonstrator in Copenhagen dragged by the security men to prison By force, we saw you handcuffed in Tel Aviv, raising the victory sign, and all that because you did not come from a dream, nor from a book, nor from a flowery speech. You were brought by the pain of the earth, the wailing of trees, the death of birds, the breaking of butterflies’ wings in the silence of the day, and the screams of terrified children in Gaza. You are the one who stopped time and turned back the clock to where it should begin, and to where we must remember that we are only passersby in this land that is not inherited except with love, is not guarded except with reason, and is not populated except with honesty. You alone were a front that resisted. You did not ask for an army, nor a tribe, nor flags to glorify you, nor a throne to sit on. Rather, you stood in the face of the world as if you were the last commandment of prophecy,´-or-the first cry in the court of history. You who raised the banner of disobedience in the time of submission, and wrote on the brow of tomorrow one sentence: This land is a trust, and the sky is not for sale, and the ocean is not a commodity, and the wind is not negotiable, and the rain does not know contracts. Commercialism and seasons are neither ruling nor being ruled, but rather a gift from God to those who deserve it. You were the loud voice in a time when voices were slaughtered, throats were strangled, and the public applauded their executioners, while you screamed the scream of the first wave, so the waters woke up, and we realized that stillness is a crime, silence is a crime, and neutrality is treason, and that excuses are no longer acceptable, and that every moment of delay kills a forest, burns a being, drowns a city, and demolishes a home in an occupied homeland. You are the one who spoke, so they trembled, you screamed, so they were confused, and you stood, so they were paralyzed, because you did not come with their speech, you did not wear their masks, you did not speak their language, but rather you came with the language of nature, the language of justice, the language of life itself, which their books, laws, and conferences are unable to understand. Oh Greta, if the earth were a gift, I would give it to you. If life were a tune, I would play it for you. If humanity were… A moon would be your face.. And the earth would kneel for you in respect.. If there was justice in the rose, it would grow in your footsteps. There is no color in it but your color, and no fragrance in it but your pulse.. O beautiful beauty, O pure thought, O you to whom prophecy came hidden in the features of a child, and the wisdom of a thousand ages, and the serenity of a river that flows against the current without breaking.. O you who hurt falsehood, and dropped its mask, and called things by their names, so the boldness in you was like clarity that does not tolerate interpretation, falsehood,´-or-metaphor.. You who became a mirror that exposes the tyrants of the Arabs, and the falsehood of the jurists and the deception of the fake national speeches that are no longer sufficient for bread´-or-dignity.. that decimate their people then bow to their enemy, and carry the banner of pride over the body of humiliation and disgrace.. O you who spoke truthfully what no intellectual, leader,´-or-Friday preacher dared to say.. O you who were freedom itself, walking and speaking and walking on hot coals without looking back.. O you who said no while the whole world said yes.. And O you who said enough when everyone was begging for more Destruction.. For you alone, Greta, the pearl of humanity, and the flower of this miserable time.. For you alone, my love is pure, unadulterated by flattery, nor clouded by hypocrisy, nor weakened by distances.. For you, noble and free, you who have glory in every sea, a covenant in every forest, and a story in every land. You who removed the crowns from the heads of the kings of the sand, and dropped the masks of brokers and generals. You who taught children that anger is not a defect if it is for the sake of truth, and that rebellion is an honor if it is in the face of injustice, and that standing alone does not mean that you are alone, but rather means that everyone after you will follow where you started.. You who resemble the future if the future has a face that resembles purity, light, and honesty.. You who do not disappear even if you are absent, because you do not live in one place rather than another, but in the conscience, because you do not inhabit a house, but inhabit the conscience of the planet. You are the inspiration, the fighter, and the revolutionary saint.. O morning hymn, And the noon prayer, and the whisper of the night, and the secret of truth.. O you who came out of the unknown to write on the doors of nations, that life is not bought´-or-sold, and that the earth belongs only to those who love it, serve it, and carry it in their hearts as a mother carries her child in her arms.. To you I write the utmost of my love, my great gratitude, and my utmost respect.. To you I dedicate these words as a lover dedicates his heart.. As a worshipper dedicates his prayer.. As a child dedicates his precious toy to his mother’s hand.. To you this call in a time when no one answers.. To you this letter from a mouth tired of silence, tired of waiting, tired of seeing tyrants speak in the name of the homeland, the corrupt steal in the name of development, and criminals wear the clothes of wisdom.. To you alone, O free, honorable, blessed one, the crown of thought, the origin of innocence, and the echo of refusal that never dies..And in every forest there is a covenant, and in every land there is a story, O you who removed the crowns from the heads of the sand kings, and dropped the masks of brokers and generals, O you who taught children that anger is not a defect if it is for the sake of truth, and that rebellion is an honor if it is in the face of injustice, and that standing alone does not mean that you are alone, but rather means that everyone after you will walk from where you started.. You are the one who resembles the future if the future has a face that resembles purity, light, and honesty.. You are the one who does not disappear even if you are absent, because you do not live in one place without another, but in the conscience, because you do not inhabit a house, but inhabit the conscience of the planet. You are the inspiration, the fighter, and the revolutionary saint.. O morning hymn, noon prayer, night whisper, and secret of truth.. O you who came out of the unknown to write on the doors of nations, that life is not bought´-or-sold, and that the earth belongs only to those who love it, serve it, and carry it in their hearts as a mother carries her child in her folds.. To you I write the end My love, my great thanks, and my utmost respect. To you I dedicate these words as a lover dedicates his heart, as a worshipper dedicates his prayer, as a child dedicates his precious toy to his mother’s hand. To you this appeal in a time when no one answers. To you this letter from a mouth tired of silence, tired of waiting, tired of seeing tyrants speak in the name of the nation, the corrupt steal in the name of development, and criminals wear the garments of wisdom. To you alone, oh free, honorable, blessed woman, the crown of thought, the origin of innocence, and the echo of undying rejection. And in every forest there is a covenant, and in every land there is a story, O you who removed the crowns from the heads of the sand kings, and dropped the masks of brokers and generals, O you who taught children that anger is not a defect if it is for the sake of truth, and that rebellion is an honor if it is in the face of injustice, and that standing alone does not mean that you are alone, but rather means that everyone after you will walk from where you started.. You are the one who resembles the future if the future has a face that resembles purity, light, and honesty.. You are the one who does not disappear even if you are absent, because you do not live in one place without another, but in the conscience, because you do not inhabit a house, but inhabit the conscience of the planet. You are the inspiration, the fighter, and the revolutionary saint.. O morning hymn, noon prayer, night whisper, and secret of truth.. O you who came out of the unknown to write on the doors of nations, that life is not bought´-or-sold, and that the earth belongs only to those who love it, serve it, and carry it in their hearts as a mother carries her child in her folds.. To you I write the end My love, my great thanks, and my utmost respect. To you I dedicate these words as a lover dedicates his heart, as a worshipper dedicates his prayer, as a child dedicates his precious toy to his mother’s hand. To you this appeal in a time when no one answers. To you this letter from a mouth tired of silence, tired of waiting, tired of seeing tyrants speak in the name of the nation, the corrupt steal in the name of development, and criminals wear the garments of wisdom. To you alone, oh free, honorable, blessed woman, the crown of thought, the origin of innocence, and the echo of undying rejection.
Jassim Almamori

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