A poem by Ziggy Rendler Bregman
From the West Bank, November 2
I had come to place my head against
your holy walls
make my way through
these markets of confusion, ancient
gates, offerings of cardamom and honeyed cakes.
I had come to watch how the sun
rises over the just and unjust,
how I might learn to wear
the shared cloak of longing
how to mend this thread-bare
and fragile peace.
But it is not in the rubble of history,
broken promises, maps with green lines,
and erasable boundaries where
I will understand what we are doing
here.
It is in the touch of your cheek against mine
our small farewell and blessing song
this will be the cornerstone of some other construction.
Tonight I know a sweet peace in Bethlehem
I have met their proud Palestinians
young men and women, their beauty
and dignity no wall can contain.
Here they build their own holy walls
have already become a holy well
from which we drink.
