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And When You Live in Diaspora

by Ala Hamdan

and when you live in diaspora
your heart does not ache to be home, rather,
it craves the warmth of the long-awaited
airport hug that makes your soul tremble,
it listens to the sounds of the cries of your
grandmother as you pack your existence into a suitcase,
it unfolds every memory you buried
under the jasmine tree by your house,
it shatters every barrier you once
thought was too high to climb.

Shirin Abedinirad, Evocation, 2013. Land art, Central Desert, Iran. Using mirrored circles partially buried in sand, the work conjures the illusion of water in the desert, reflecting the sky across the dunes and transforming absence into mirage, longing, and wonder. Artwork courtesy of featured artist Shirin Abedinirad.

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