Vagaries, myriad evasive talks, tired animosities. Betrayers linger, forget
Entertainment picks beckon
The taste suddenly ashen
Maybe Dayan meant to bless
but cursed the camp instead.
Layers of soot and smoldering ash coat every alley.
The Third Temple,
Shining above us
Like a distant star
“Can you help me, please?” I ask a young woman
in spiked heels and hijab.
Yes, the evil Israelis again have upset
The world — shot civilians who’d peacefully met
To throw stones, cut wires, send kites to burn farms
Cellos and violins, harps and trombones,
The letters of His speech are the source of Creation.
After all You created us so,