A Visit to Nir Oz

The first sound
that assails you
Is the chirping
Likely
of Mockingbirds
In the tree tops
That shield you
With a soft breeze
From the sun’s rays

Crimsons and Periwinkles
Dot the winding paths
Hidden behind
The feathery tapestry
Of the peacocks
Who roam the town
The burnt orange houses
Nestled in the shrubbery
A Garden only found
In God’s blessed Eden

And you can’t imagine
That
There was a day
When the sounds of rockets
Assailed them
There were no shields
For the chirping
Of the bullets
Unavailing attempts
At hiding
Mockingbirds
While the devil
Roamed freely
Burning homes beyond
Their deep orange color

As you look closer
You can see
That amongst God’s Garden
Are plants
Planted by man
One of his hands
Held a shovel
And the other
Held his heart

Some flowers
Were orange
Some flowers
surrounded candles
Some flowers
surrounded pictures

Of an elderly man
with a mustache
Of a brother
With sunglasses
Of a whole family
Holding each other

All, now nestled
In the hopeful hearts
Of those
who believe
In the return
Of God’s Eden