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