My Feathered Self…A Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (Before Departing)

My Feathered Self…A Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (Before Departing)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The soft hairs
on my “tempel’s” tent
RISE like feathers.

What will I see?
Will my eyes weep
like his when I
stand before the Holy City?

My arms unfold
like a hen’s.
Will I, too, OPEN my
‘pupils’ wide enough to
hold the people as
a brood of chicks are held
AND, will I long to comfort and embrace
the pain that seems
to roll on and on
like a wave that never
ceases
even after it embraces the shore?

I’m weeks away
from taking steps upon your
soil…but the musings in
my soul
‘peck’ & ‘peck’.

Will there be morsels to feed my being?

My feathered self
sits NOW—
nesting.

What will ‘break’ when
I stand where
your feet walked?
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.”                                                                                                                                                                                 Luke 13:34

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