Death, destruction, loss
and grief in Lebanon

The neighborhood bully
is at it again.
He tore up our garden—
recently replanted,
tender
and bursting with color

Why would he rip
the deep roots
of my sturdy Poppy?
It brightened our community spring,
the crimson foundation
of this ancient land
held by our family for generations

What did my Wild Tulips do to him
Those striking twins,
blossoming in bright red and yellow,
mowed under and crushed,
time and again

My Iris—
once as soft and pure as my little sister—
now scattered in the dirt,
broken and unrecognizable

And my Aunt Violet,
who stood so sturdy,
always dressed in her royal purple…
It is hard to imagine
she exists no more

The star-shaped, yellow flowers
of St. John’s Wort,
the silver leaves
of Wild Sage,
trampled underfoot
in an uncontrollable rage

What could he possibly have
against the Cyclamen?
With its pale pink, ascending petals
and peppery, fragrant blooms
rising from
the ancient stone

Throughout history,
the biodiversity of Lebanon
and the richness of her people
was something to be cultivated and celebrated
Now, all I see
is ruin and destruction

But with a second glance I see strength, resilience, perseverance and hope

We wake—
both family in the homeland
and family and friends
in the States and around the globe—
wondering how we survive the evil

How do we restore the beauty and hope
systematically plowed under while the world looks on

Our elders remind us:
Remain alert, remain alive
to the beauty and joy
both external and internal
We will survive and rise

In times of destruction,
holding onto hope
and joy is,
in itself,
a profound act of perseverance, grit and liberation—
a fierce step toward a better tomorrow

As strong families,
rising through  sorrow
and this ruined garden,
we already see the sprouts
of a new dawn
Where hate is plowed under,
becoming the fertilizer
to nourish our family

In the distance we see a Cedar tree through the smoke and ash representing eternity, holiness resilience, survival, cultural longevity
and immortality

Together,
in the name of Allah,
we will bloom again
Like our garden,
we, the people of Lebanon,
will rise up
in beauty and strength
We will survive and thrive

May peace, justice and beauty be restore for all.

Breathe in gratitude and exhale joy

– Tom Watkins is a Michigan-based writer who served the citizens as state mental health director and state superintendent of schools. Watkins is deeply connected to the themes of heritage, diaspora and cultural resilience. Living in Northville, his work often explores the intersection of personal grief and global events, drawing inspiration from the enduring spirit and strength of dispossessed people. Through his poetry, he seeks to honor the family roots of colleagues and friends and bridge the emotional landscape between those in the homeland and friends across the sea. He dedicates his writing to capturing the quiet beauty that persists even in times of ugly destruction.