Every time I see those mountains I'm reminded of you. I'm reminded of you as a fighter. The fighter who fought for those 21 rays and the unconditional love for the mountains. The ones who faced death when the world caused you pain. The ones who approached death's door when the world ran away.
The person who fought without question because the mountains were screaming for friends, for protection. I see those mountains knowing that each rock that was carved into creating my country was created with a purpose and a story. A story of battles and blood. Stories of victory and death. Stories that seem so far away, but still happen amongst it all.
I notice the poppies that have handpicked their spots in those mountains, in those fields of battle and blood. To remind us what you did for the world and for the people that grew surrounded by the beauty of green. Poppies that grew from the love that you had and the blood that you spilled for my family to wake up to those mountains every day.
Those poppies represent the seeds that grew in us. The seeds that the world thought had disappeared and been eradicated had grown. It spread, picked their spots and drew their rightful line of land to call home.
You created those poppies with the stories you shared, with the memories of loss and with the thought of love. Those poppies became our seeds of life, success, and pride for the mountains. The mountains that protected us when the world turned its back on us, battled with us when the world tried to destroy our seeds and guided us in times of darkness when the sun would rest in the west.
You, my brave Peshmerga fighter, remind me of the mountains and everything Kurdistan stands for. You planted those seeds in the fields of the mountains and allowed them to grow when the world tried to poison us. You created those poppies with the blood of the brave men and women that fought to protect us.
You, my brave Peshmerga, allowed those mountains to be our view every morning and our prayer every night. You have allowed me to identify a clear home that will be surrounded by the mountains, by the poppies that grow and by the brave Peshmerga fighters that will forever fight for my home.
Dedicated to the pêshmerga. Wrote this on Remembrance Day/Veterans Day
Bijî Kurd Û Kurdistan.