A Grand Fig Tree I sat anticipating Thinking I was participating A circle of women gather In a great way, rather A peaceful state upon them A company of many Chatting together In what seems like forever Under the grand fig tree Their homes they flee Passing the hours To connect and maybe talk about flowers It’s July, it’s hot A breeze of wind saves the moment protected under the grand fig tree I break into sweat Or is it duress All the women turn to me Encouraging me to be Telling how proud they are Of my first fast attempt so far But it’s time to give up they say Darling girl, it is really okay They phone a neighbor And something quick is brought I break my fast on a cold shamenet and a piece of pita bread bite Water they share To my great despair All I wanted to be Is a big girl sitting under the grand fig tree Background A poem dedicated to my first fast at my grandfather’s home near Jerusalem in 1985. Palestinians love Olives, but second to Olives they adore Figs ✨ Fig trees are loved for many reasons. When large enough, the tree is a source of shade and gathering; neighbors gather under it to connect and share their Stories. Its fruit is nutritious and is eaten fresh or is dried for winter months. I often wonder if the fig tree still stands 🙏🏻