Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I forgot your shining seas and the deserts that reach up in praise to the Lord. The mountains of Nazareth and the deserts of the Negev. Oh Israel my heart beats for thee. Should I forget your beauty let God freeze me in my feet. The winds that blow before the Western Wall coming over me and wrapping me in your comfort as prayers are raised on the wings of angels to the sky and even the voices of the downtrodden and the poor and the weak are heard.
From and the mountains of Nazareth and the deserts of the Negev, oh Israel my heart beats for thee. Should I forget your beauty let god freeze me in my stance; the winds that blow before the western wall; the water that bathed the feet of my forefathers and my mothers in the days of old, city stones bearing witness to the triumphs and the humiliations, the happiness and the pain of my people: for without the darkness we can never know the gift of light.
And within my chest the feeling of praise is felt. No greater than a prostitute, no more and no less holy than those who drape themselves in philacteries and who inscribe the name of the lord upon their forehead and upon the palms of their hand and upon their chest: to each their own connection/and with step by step addressing the hate that’s still sadly found within our community.
kuroinox (1:28:13 PM): I used to wonder where such bad fic ideas came from. Now I know – they’ve been reading spam.