To a little patch of land on the East Mediterranean: A poem 

Would I give you all the stars on the tunic  

of my azure blue skies; as if they all were   

universally and divinely part of a six-pointed denomination 

in your history; I didn’t claim to be the David 

that slayed Goliath, but I was every bit of the divination 

that worked against so many of your enemies 

I have a promise, and I have a land of the future 

that is not as parched as the Negev 

nor as saline as the Dead Sea 

but worth every grain of salt and glucose in my anatomy  

There are more than 14 billion years of grace 

it outlasts the overwhelming neighbourhood hate of the sacred place 

Just a corner of earth that survives the travesties, deserves praise 

What is chosen must suffer so much, so that  

it can arrive at its own identity, solidarity and Godhood 

Babylon had power; Egypt had wealth 

You were beaten down so much, and it was sorrow I felt 

But the walls of dignity have I dealt 

that you and I were diminutive and punished, but we never knelt!