You
flowers of El
who
live in this ancient passageway,
in
a wilderness through which every man has passed,
spreading
like a plague across the face of a naive earth,
forging
new religions and theocracies;
chains
to restrain
what
otherwise blossoms free.
Navigation
is by night skies here,
both
on land and sea,
and
you willingly share of the stars,
but
not the dirt shaken from your feet.
Christian
beware!
The
land of Christ is not yours.
Moses
parted seas and nations to come here,
leading
his tribe into the promised land;
promised
by G-d
to
His chosen ones . . . to the exclusion of all others?
Jew
beware!
The
promised land is yours, only to share.
Formed
from the same star dust,
believers
in the same imaginary friend,
how
can dust rule dust I cry!
But
when my tears fall,
they
fall on lives that are hate-baked,
forming
religions from otherwise seamless lives.
Muslim
beware!
You
too must share.
This
is a land that can be possessed, only
as
a night sky can widen your mind, only
as
an idea can show you the way, only
as
love can illuminate and guide us through.
In
this land
we
can only have rights of passage.
©Copyright Niall OConnor 2012
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