Did you ever stop to consider
That these towers are not to
protect your body
but that they are your body?
These trees are the bristles of hair
on the head of your child
These hills the rise and fall of your
own gentle breath
That the leaves which whisper past you
are those thoughts which carry
one forward from source
to salvation
and yet to source again
That the wind itself here speaks,
silent
as the voice in your head
and the rain has already shed every
tear that you’ll ever need to
What if I told you that the stones
lining these courtyards weren’t just
cut by men
But cut from man?
And how these pebbles laugh
at a man who claims to
teach you
what you’ve known before
these walls built you
and before his walls built him
That this city, she does not belong
to you,
but you belong to her.
You, and all the tribes of Israel
together.
If you forget yourself, do not forget
Jerusalem
and she will remember you.
And even a king is indebted to the soil.
