In Tel Aviv they’re on their knees.
Shabbat morning, the time when the world stops
spinning and G-d has time to
listen.
They lay flat on the earthy ground and
beseech
if
that is what it takes.
Help me today and tomorrow and
tomorrow!
Today, Shabbat, raw cries sail on the
prayers that arise.
From the tunnels to the spires, the prayers
lift off and rise.
Closing down a war requires many tools,
sharp and harsh,
dangerous and hard,
wicked
and stone-age as a dungeon.
Prayers are everywhere,
from under the earth to
cloudy hopes
Even the birds are praying. All
living beings are whispering
in harmonies calibrated as a
symphony.
Between the words and the sounds
between the notes and the dreams
There are mystical colors spelling
peace.
