And the land had rest from war

 

My Gardener is enthusiastic.

He kills all the weeds in my garden,
Sweating conviction,

In purple droplets,
Muscles wet,

In the midday sun, he
Slaughters them,

My perfect weeds I spent so long cultivating,

Black,

And whites ones,
Jewish and Muslim,

Mayhem.

Now the name of Hebron formerly was Kiriath-arba.
(Arba  was the greatest man among the Anakim.)
And the land had rest from war, 

But-

My gardener has turned into a terrorist, and
My weeds are no longer safe.

-Joshua 14:15-

Photo – Gay Israel on Pininterest

-short evocative poetry-