Young Poet, Haidar Al-Ghazali from Gaza
I visited Jerusalem twice in six days, the first time alone.
All I had with me was a small bag, but in my mind, I bore a heavy question:
What is the secret of lovers at the checkpoints?
When I reached the Qalandiya checkpoint from Ramallah, it was crowded; young men and women, families, everyone waiting, full of farewells.
They were sniffing us out.
The lovers looked exhausted.
I watched them. They were seeking something in the faces.
I passed through the checkpoint, but still I had no answer to my question.
I felt that I failed.
After what they described as a “traffic crisis” on the way, I arrived at the Damascus Gate.
I had finally reached Jerusalem, and tears started dropping from my eyes.
At that moment, I finally realized what was the secret of the lovers at the checkpoints.
