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Today in Jerusalem, where I live

Summer, hot but not lazy as I go to East Jerusalem
greet Ahmed and Khaldoun with a quiet sala'am.
Coffee at the hotel, discussing the hopes for peace
ways to solve the unsolvable conundrum, a new lease
on life in the Middle East. Coffee, loads of hot tea,
cappuccino, and Arabic brew to keep us on track
our views expressed in terms so lofty
our dreams expressed without looking back.

Then to class, to teach, not to preach
how to write, clear words for citizenship to reach.
True, the essay form need not rhyme
but new ideas for cooperation must be on time.
The secretaries tell me how to get paid:
file this form in this office, do it today.
Perhaps the peace plan on their desks should be laid,
then it would get done, one more task on their way.

Ahmed, Khaldoun and I would like to try
but when we see the resistance, we wonder how, why?
Solutions seem so perfectly clear, work together now
on common cause, improving all lives, is how.
My students just want to go somewhere else instead,
Easier to leave this torn land then remain under the shadow's hand.
So tonight, I will toss and turn in my sleepless bed,
wondering why I rhymed words I don't understand.

Learn more about this author, Michael Deqel.
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