A Time to Heal

Three in the morning Israeli time
And I still can’t get to sleep
Something inside me wants to rejoice
Another part wants to weep.
Three in the morning and a time to dwell
On stories my ancestors longed to tell
These are my family, as I have been told
Departed too early, never to grow old.
Their voices ring with the wisdom of years
Acquired through centuries of sweat, toil and tears.
“There have been many holocausts,”
they try to explain
“Many lives have perished, many more to blame.
A continuous cycle of crime, guilt and accusation
It has not eluded any single nation.
History is stained, it is dirty and scarred;
You can find it in books, no need to look hard.
Everywhere is greed—essences below the line,
Arguments of ownership—‘it’s not yours, it’s mine!’
“But there comes a time
when something else must begin
A third vector presence, which means both sides win.
To rise above the suffering and pain,
To be able to start fresh and begin again.
Just as in the spring
a fresh blade of grass will appear,
So must you evolve and learn to conquer fear.
Now is your time to make your special mark;
The new order starts here;
we are coming out of the dark.”