Mahmoud Darwish, poet laureate of Palestine, Wrote:

In Jerusalem, and I mean within the ancient walls,
I walk from one epoch to another without a memory
to guide me. [Sulus calligraphy]

The prophets over there are sharing
the history of the holy ... ascending to heaven
and returning less discouraged and melancholy, because love
and peace are holy and are coming to town.
I was walking down a slope and thinking to myself: How
do the narrators disagree over what light said about a stone?
Is it from a dimly lit stone that wars flare up?
I walk in my sleep. I stare in my sleep. I see
no one behind me. I see no one ahead of me. [Nesih calligraphy]

All this light is for me. I walk. I become lighter. I fly
then I become another. Transfigured. [Sulus calligraphy]

Words sprout like grass from Isaiah’s messenger

mouth: “If you don’t believe you won’t be safe.”
I walk as if I were another. And my wound a white
biblical rose. And my hands like two doves
on the cross hovering and carrying the earth.
I don’t walk, I fly, I become another,
transfigured. No place and no time. So who am I?
I am no I in ascension’s presence. But I
think to myself: Alone, the prophet Muhammad
spoke classical Arabic. “And then what?”
Then what? A woman soldier shouted: [Nesih calligraphy]

Is that you again? Didn’t I kill you?
I said: You killed me ... and I forgot, like you, to die. [Sulus calligraphy]

Soot ink on hand-dyed ahar paper, bordered with acrylic with traditional Palestinian tatreez patterns.