The Market

off the plane in Tel Aviv
wading through security
no rivers here of milk and honey
taxi through the holy land,
«Where is it you’re going again?»
I reply. he wrings his hands
leaning in so close to me,
«Be careful», he whispers cautiously
I set off for the old city and the market
Washed away and built again
These walls that house the hopes of men
Oh, Jerusalem
neon, lights and oil lamps glow,
casting shadows on the ancient stone
I’m pulled in by the undertow
through corridors under the ground,
I follow a river of people down,
adrift among the sights and sounds
down on through the Damascus Gate,
sinking now with all this weight
can I swim free? is it too late?
Washed away and built again
These walls that house the hopes of men
Oh, Jerusalem
walking the Stations of the Cross,
the call to prayer at the Farthest Mosque
davening at the Temple-lost
I trap the air inside my lungs
climb on all these holy rungs
bite my lips and hold my tongue
climbing up the slippery rock
I gulp the air and try to talk
my heart upon the chopping block
Washed away and built again
These walls that house the hopes of men
Oh, Jerusalem