Friday, July 18, 2014

to the bottle boy

To the bottle boy 

Your soiled clothes gave it away
It was not the horn you blew
Like trumpets announcing the arrival of the king
Not a shofar but Shabbab
A young man with a shopping cart full of bottles
Who hoped in and out of dumpsters
As touring tourist rush to see the tomb
The garden trace the footprints of a savior
In your backyard
The political implications
The religious conflict that seems less real the longer I'm here
For the call to worship at 3 am reminds me
This is not a land of just one but of many who live
And breathe and love and worship even
Admist rocks and tank rockets and checkpoints
I wonder if the bottle boy dreams of peace
Wishes for passage free from any scrutiny
Could he aimlessly wonder over hillsides
Trace historic footprints
And drink in fancy hotel lobbies?
The interpersonal informing the systemic
The local informing global
I am a stranger in this land

Taking snap shots in my mind
I want to claim space here
Say my savior would see fit for a Christian presence
But space seems to Presious a commodity
To exert
I don't know what to do with the profound
The profane how to makes sense of it all
Learning and leaving
While you stay in soiled clothes blasting your horn so I
And you don't forget you are here and you are real

To the Palestinen children for whom home is unsafe and
Live in poverty and inequality

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