A Jew in Judea wakes up at dawn
as the sun breaks over the rock-covered hills
he goes to pasture his sheep
on rocky slopes half-bathed in shadow
carved staff in hand
he thinks about God
who is ever present in this place
A Jew in Judea goes out to his vineyard
where clusters of grapes sprout from the mountainside
beneath a blazing sun
he deftly cuts them from the vine
some will be dried and preserved for eating
others he will take to the winepress
to be made into wine
A Jew in Judea toils outside all day
and when the sun is low in the west
he returns to his simple stone house
bathes, breaks bread with his family
then opens the scrolls and learns
how God brought our ancestors to this land
A Jew in Judea who walks at night
is cradled by God’s hand beneath a blanket of stars
the rock-covered hills breathe His presence
and every rock and tree holds stories
of his ancestors who shepherded and farmed here
he joins himself to them
that the land might tell his story to the later generations
The air is clear here
intoxicating
filling
making one wise
And he who breathes this air
knows that to be a Jew in Judea
is the most natural thing in the world
