The Western Stones

I wrote this when my soul was craving the place it felt most right at — and today I have the greatest blessings from Above that I am here in Jerusalem on the most special day.

49 years ago the Jewish people fought back for the part of their home sacrificing blood, sweat, and tears. This is the closest they have gotten (so far) to the where BE”H our Third Beit Hamikdash will stand.
49 years later I write about the magic of that place. I hope as you read this piece, it reawakens the eternal dream inside.

As the sun hid further behind the stones she greeted
her hands fell upon them —
cold, smooth, awakening her.
They whisper to her secrets 
seeping from in between each locked stone. 
Closing her liquid eyes,
unlocking her lips,
letting the wind escort her words where they please. 
Opening her eyes, seeing all things blurred.
Her eyelids then shut again — the world out around her.
Whispering her hopes into the cracks —
these stones swearing to secrecy, 
giving a piece of herself for them to keep. 
The birds there dance with the wind that carried her words through.
She looks between the strands of the door she hid her face in,
Trailing along her finger tips to the next stone over and over…
In between them, she uncovers the longing dream of generations.

 

As they sat by the exiled rivers of Babylon longing,
Seeing their reflection in the water and weeping
I will never forget you
And if I dare do
may my hands break and my words unravel
You will be a part of me and above my greatest joys
Until I see you again —

 

And as she stood with these stones unraveling the deepest secret of all: After 2000 years, 
they never forgot they would come home.