STONES THAT CRY OUT

How hard is this implacable
And unforgiving land.

Only the howling of the desert
Wind, or the swirling of
The southward flowing
Syrian springs can possibly erode
The harshness of this place
And sculpt an ever-deepening
Rift upon the landscape –
And upon her peoples.

Rocks of the wilderness:
Building-blocks of Temple,
Fortress, Mosque and Church -
All sourced alike and quarried
From the hills that separate
A river from a sea.

Stones hurling anger
And abuse; slabs for walls, and
Aggregate for roads that
Only some may travel;
Outcrops, shade for wearied sheep
Or mirrored sheen

Reflecting back the searing sun
While burning all that dares to grow;
Subduing armies trudging through
The centuries, upon their weary march
For destiny, for Christ, for
Jahweh, Allah or for power.

And then this other rock at Abu Gosh.
Chiselled to a miller’s stone for
Making bread; for baking bread,
For fellowship, encounter (and at Emmaus
Too), for breaking of that bread, for
Kneading all the pain and loss,
To forge again a friendship and
A burning hope that redefines

How hard is this implacable
And unforgiving land.

A millstone lies beside the church at Abu Gosh, one of the traditional sites
Associated with the Emmaus Road encounter after Jesus’ resurrection.
Conclusion of a Pilgrimage – May 2010