Jonathots Daily Blog
(3668)
Listen to the Poet
The Holy Place
Holy, holy, holy land
Here we choose to make a stand
Holy, holy, holy shit
Desert death is what we get.
Ancient past, broken stone
Orphaned children left alone
Bearded men with angry eyes
Generations of patriarch lies
Striving for a painful conclusion
Soaked with blood, riddled with delusion
Abraham’s kids negotiate the will
Who will survive? Who must we kill?
For Solomon in all his glory
With Sheba could not change the story
Is the battle that we yearn to win
Still about a man’s foreskin?
Can we allow faith to enlighten
Or must the scrolls only frighten?
In separating the good from the good
Then the bad survives, as it should
As the Nazarene did die
He spoke plainly, addressed the lie
“Your house is left desolate”
Your foolish dreams…crushed.
For the holy place is anywhere
Where children are spared a nightly scare
And men and women unite in the Son
To boldly live together as one.
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Jonathots Daily Blog 