Yom Yerushalayim: O Jerusalem

If I forget you O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not count Jerusalem the greatest of all my joys. (Tehillim 137:5-6).

How could I forget you,
O Jerusalem –
your singular skyline
of shimmering domes
and cuspate pines,
etched in my mind’s eye?
How could I forget you –
where the azure sky arcs
above the sunlit stones,
and the contrast of shadow
and light is sharpest?
How could I forget you –
where the tension
between ancient and modern
cuts so deep
it jabs at the heart?
How could I forget you –
where the cadence
of every spoken tongue is heard,
where if I listen,
even the stones tell a story?
How could I forget you,
O Jerusalem –
the breath-taking ascent
into your encircling arms,
and the certainty
that I’ve come home?

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