to the place of my birth,

where sands make waves

in the wind, reshaping

the earth- please once more

- they weep for us now,

in travails of unknown tomorrows

that furrow the brow.

.

They are sinking in the quicksand

of evil affairs- can't You hear it

in all of their prayers?

Let Me descend again-

the people need You and Me,

to put the Temple right,

along the Gallilee- oh Father,

give me leave, to again enter

Your world's air, and make

the people realize

that We still care.