For BR-421

It is not yet spring yet flowers are in full
bloom, wild in color, each petal unique
and delicate in its form. Who would have thought
that such a beautiful garden could spring
from the clenched womb of our faith?
We stand at the wailing wall where
lush green life blossoms from stone,
walk arm in arm with soldiers and dance
in a desert where war does not exist,
not today, and I am grateful
for the rare gift of our people
that keeps on giving after thousands
of years, salty tears no deterrent
from a goal that will never be lost
no matter how much hate
attempts to blind us.

I have renewed my faith
in a home that is new yet more
real than anything I have ever seen,
found a family that is not afraid
to dream. The sun is setting,
marking an end to this time yet
an even more enlightened beginning,
crimson line suspended above an endless
horizon, and though there is a heaviness
in my heart I know that it is not one of pain
but of a love greater than anything
I have ever known and I am eager
to plant a seed, kneel in the holy soil
of this garden and watch it grow, allow
it to infuse my heart and mind with the sacred
beauty it so desperately needs.

11/10/2006

Posted on 11/10/2006
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