The nine letters that make your name are present. 

They are enunciated in the dialects of every mother tongue our ancestors of this earth have constructed.

Enunciations of your letters have oozed beyond the doorsteps of every home, vibrating on the walls of neighbourhoods that lie in shadowed corners, in the long-standing radios of local shops, in lecture halls, in political conventions, in newsrooms, in international courts, and in the streets of both big and small cities. Your name thunders the ground and staggers leaders that know your truth, but conspire against it. Waveringness consumes your name, yet solidifies the nail to the ground for others. 

The ignorant hiss your name, while the passionate roll it off with rooted, unwavering delicacy. No question mark at the end of the sentence, no introductory titles, no suggested opinion pieces, and no segments for debate. 

Palestine sounds the most beautiful when it stands alone with a period following. 

Palestine. Has become a revolutionary act. 

In a world that thrives off universal deceit, Palestine seeps to remind the world of its own moral consciousness, its own outward view of justice, its limits to steadfastness, and its gravity for resilience in the face of adversity. Palestine teaches that the roots of a plant serve beyond organs of nature. Roots serve life and meaning; they serve a place to exist. They serve the past, the present, and the future. 

In a world of noise, information saturation, and one where your most valuable commodity has become your attention, look out and listen for Palestine. Listen for the enunciations of the nine letters in the local shops, from the low volume televised screens, in passing protests and fabricated headlines.  

To listen for Palestine is to learn of justice.

It is to embody resilience. 

It is to seek truth.

It is to be determined. 

It is to believe in a cause. 

To listen for Palestine is to give life a notable meaning.