Treasure Island

doug bentley


city of walls
and sepulchers;
history of wars;
solar plexus
of the world.

two leaders locking swords;
soldiers fighting with words;
rushing waters over dam
spill out across cracked sand;
pithy olives spring from dew;
millenia hatreds wash out too.

tears of joy
trumpet in heart
when all peoples start
to start to taste fruit
of sane policies that

turn ancient animosities
into scales falling from blind eyes-
blocks that make brothers despise
each other. for sane is the man
with olive branch in hand,
mad the frothing monster

who only wants to slaughter
all in the name of a god ideal
only in his own small imagination.

who founded you?
who declared from very beginning
where you were to be built?
who led Abraham to you
with a sign so unmistakably clear

that even a blind man
could not fail but see
the thunder of His shofar?

Submitted: Wednesday, November 27, 2013

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