beneath shawarma stands with armies of people lined up for a taste, there are streets replaced by new civilizations
the romans had it all until they got swarmed and saw their churches reformed into mosques
after dark, ghosts rise from between the layers of Jerusalem, which one by one reveal traces of ancient places
bricks remain from walls while the temples they were built to protect are long gone,
conquered and rebuilt into the image of the new king
whether it's caesar or skeikh, they all wanted a piece of this place.
so they came and went
leaving eternal footprints in the sand to remind us they were here
between the layers of Jerusalem
they were here then like we are here now,
and one thousand years from now others will come here to see the layers we built
and the ancient graffiti we left in the old city of Jerusalem.
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1 comment:
nice poem,
It reminds me of the "cultural layers" I saw when I looked down into the gap in one of the streets and saw layers of old ruins.
-gene
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