oh, to be a dreamer
in the real world;
the world of contradictions
of great joy and immense beauty
and immeasurable suffering

-of those who would steal milk from a child
and those who reach out again
to restore the taken milk
they had once given in the first place-

there are wrongs that can never be fully righted
apologies and sadness can only be offered
I merely once saw as a tourist
traveling elsewhere, a stark site called Dauchau
left standing as a reminder
of how terribly wrong persons can go.

Just show them that G-d awful black and white footage
of the Allies opening the hell kamps
-of the bodies dead and almost dead gaunt living
wearing their yellow Juden star...

but still I'm a dreamer
visiting a terrestial place in my thoughts
not yet of the earthly realm
a place that could be and may be and perhaps
someday will be.

not though can mere dreams bring
to a people a bell of freedom ringing.

a world where ones race and ones beliefs
are revered for their individuality
and our commonality is celebrated.
a world where borders are an element of culture
and not necessary as a strategy for defence.

and yes, I admit I am a dreamer this way
a world that accepts your skin colour;
the name you may give a supreme universal force;
perhaps even the great creator
if that be your belief...

Oh Israel it is time to bring your settlers
home from the frontier
And Palestine it is time for you to let them;
to accept what is now Israel
and what could be your homeland.

oh my, in my dreamer's world
nothing more than a handshake
over a line drawn in the sand
where both sides know what is Israel
and what is Palestine
would indeed be enough.

my real persona knows there are details
and old scores and old prejudices
and new angers that have not been settled;
yet again is there really much more
that needs to be done
if that handshake should ever come.

borders are easy to draw
it is the human heart that sometimes
is difficult to change;
and this is my dreamer
speaking to my realist.

poetpj 1230 2005 1225