Thursday, July 17, 2014

Green and Pleasant Land


By Randy Ai

I sit at the hills of Jerusalem –
A city united by its rooftops but divided by its people
A place where the walls wail,
The domes are made of gold,
And the sepulchres house the resurrected

It is a city of too many fantasies
But not enough real estate.
A city of treasure and blood
That has changed hands
Like the plaything of a skilled moneychanger

As I drink my evening tea
And eat my olives
I can hear in the distance
The lullaby of bombs bursting in air

A new volley of missiles
Excite the air raid sirens
While men and women in uniform
Scramble to take cover

The night sky above the Old City
Becomes a lightshow of firecrackers
Yet I continue to dine undeterred
As the soil beneath my feet is fertile
And blessed by God

Jews, Christians, and Muslims:
All the children of Abraham
Have planted flowers here.
And in the ignorance of night
All have raided the gardens of their neighbours

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