Michelle lives in Jerusalem, Israel
Not a drop of rain cooled the parched, dry land,
As missiles dropped and tears dropped
Incitement flowed and blood flowed
Bullets rained and terror reigned.
Only our tears fell, swiftly,
In to crevices of dry riverbeds,
Into newly dug graves in hard rocky soil
And finally –
Into old, worn pages of David’s’ Psalms.
And then, only then,
Did the heavens slowly open.
Rain drops dropped, rain rained down
And rain flowed steadily into the blood stained land.
The pain filled earth
Was comforted, and covered
By a blanket of blood red poppies.
©Copyright March 2002 by Michelle Borinstein