You will not draw us home
From the fleshpots of exile
With talk of miracles,
“A nation risen from the dust”
What is it to me
When I never tasted the dust
You have bored us to sleep
With that trumpet you blare
“Israel has the right to defend itself”
Chanted over and over like a tape on loop
And you’ve told me we’re the only democracy
But I’m not seeing it
And why should I be moved
By a basket of dates, a bottle of wine
When I can pick them off the shelves at Walmart
$12 a bottle and $7.99 a packet?
For I never learned to treasure her soil
But perhaps you will succeed
With a vision,
A call to revolution
To finish what has not been completed
For there is work to be done
Much, much work
To pour breath into these dry bones
And who will draw the water from the springs
To be carried to the Holy Mount
Distributed amongst the people?
To break through these clouds of swirling fog
And who will go out at night
To light the lamps,
To illuminate a path for so many lost souls
Yearning to do the right thing?
To heal a wounded land
And who will dare to reach across the canyons
Build bridges, sew up cracks
Grasp hands
That when the red one comes with his hammer
It is the diamond that shatters the chisel
And not the other way round?
There is so much to do
Before we arrive at the Davidic kingdom
A kingdom where Shlomo is not compelled
To marry the princess of Egypt
But stands on the other side
Behind the orphaned nations of the world
Supporting them as the Holy One Himself would do
But this I know
There are sparks inside us
Burning brighter than the stars
Apart – they fizzle and die
United – the host of heaven cannot contain them
So go out and gather the sparks
Bring them home
For I have seen fires burning on the mountain
And straw coming to meet them
You tell me – who will triumph?
Across the ocean, Edom flounders
It is only we who keep her afloat
Our next task?
Build the fires
And she will go up like straw
The mighty ones will sink like lead in the waters.
