No Place Like

And when you find that place you didn’t know you were looking for?

What then?

It starts as a good idea, a few days of pleasure after a stressful business trip, the straw hat and colorful shawls an afterthought thrown into the suitcase on top of the nude pumps and grey suit, flipflops vying for space with business cards in the cramped carry-on.

But then

you see

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you hear

whispered stories of the Virgin’s life accompanied by a Bach organ cantataImage cries of “Salaam” and “Shalom” and even “Dzien Dobry” as you jostle through the marketplace

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and the muezzin’s cries from a minaret mingle with bell ringing and sung Sabbath prayers

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discussions about ceramics in Hebrew, babies’ cries, mothers’ murmuring, bees buzzing, birds’ serenades at dawn at your retreat on a Jerusalem hillside

you smell falafel sweat history honey incense apple cake Yemeni fried bread

you taste the dust on your tongue the bowl of fresh falafel the sweat the sweet mint lemonade

you feel

at home.

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One response to “No Place Like

  1. Pingback: Dreaming of Jerusalem | Sandstone and amber

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