The Capitol of My Heart


Psalms Chapter 137 תְּהִלִּים

א  עַל נַהֲרוֹת, בָּבֶל--שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ, גַּם-בָּכִינוּ:    בְּזָכְרֵנוּ, אֶת-צִיּוֹן. 1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
ב  עַל-עֲרָבִים בְּתוֹכָהּ--    תָּלִינוּ, כִּנֹּרוֹתֵינוּ. 2 Upon the willows in the midst thereof we hanged up our harps.
ג  כִּי שָׁם שְׁאֵלוּנוּ שׁוֹבֵינוּ, דִּבְרֵי-שִׁיר--    וְתוֹלָלֵינוּ שִׂמְחָה:
שִׁירוּ לָנוּ,    מִשִּׁיר צִיּוֹן. 3 For there they that led us captive asked of us words of song, and our tormentors asked of us mirth: {N}
'Sing us one of the songs of Zion.'
ד  אֵיךְ--נָשִׁיר אֶת-שִׁיר-יְהוָה:    עַל, אַדְמַת נֵכָר. 4 How shall we sing the LORD'S song in a foreign land?
ה  אִם-אֶשְׁכָּחֵךְ יְרוּשָׁלִָם--    תִּשְׁכַּח יְמִינִי. 5 If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.
ו  תִּדְבַּק-לְשׁוֹנִי, לְחִכִּי--    אִם-לֹא אֶזְכְּרֵכִי:
אִם-לֹא אַעֲלֶה, אֶת-יְרוּשָׁלִַם--    עַל, רֹאשׁ שִׂמְחָתִי. 6 Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not; {N}
if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy.
ז  זְכֹר יְהוָה, לִבְנֵי אֱדוֹם--    אֵת, יוֹם יְרוּשָׁלִָם:
הָאֹמְרִים, עָרוּ עָרוּ--    עַד, הַיְסוֹד בָּהּ. 7 Remember, O LORD, against the children of Edom the day of Jerusalem; {N}
who said: 'Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation thereof.'
ח  בַּת-בָּבֶל,    הַשְּׁדוּדָה:
אַשְׁרֵי שֶׁיְשַׁלֶּם-לָךְ--    אֶת-גְּמוּלֵךְ, שֶׁגָּמַלְתְּ לָנוּ. 8 O daughter of Babylon, that art to be destroyed; {N}
happy shall he be, that repayeth thee as thou hast served us.
ט  אַשְׁרֵי, שֶׁיֹּאחֵז וְנִפֵּץ אֶת-עֹלָלַיִךְ--    אֶל-הַסָּלַע. 9 Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the rock. {P}

Ever since I was a child I've listened to the whispers,
Those whispers reverberating within me.
And I've submitted to those whispers during timeless moments of
my life.
And I became a citizen of the Eternal Realm.

And during my forays in the Eternal Kingdom,
I saw a new age soon to dawn upon humanity.
It is the age prophesied so long ago by all religions.
It is the Age Of Aquarius.
It is the Age of Messiah.
It is the the Second Coming for those who believe there was a first.
It is the age I call the Third.

And I saw Jerusalem,
The shining city of Zion atop a hill.
But in the Eternal Kingdom it is not a city of brick and mortar,
It is a city of the spirit's yearning and of effervescent light.
And the whispers lingered within me.
And they proclaimed, with the final trumpeting of a ram's horn,
The coming Third Age,
When all of the Earth will become the city of Zion,
A Jerusalem spread from pole to pole,
And around the great circles of our world.

But before the Third Age can dawn,
Jerusalem, that shining city of Zion atop a hill,
must be gifted to the world,
So that no one nation shall exercise dominion over it,
Only humanity's shared Soul.

Before the messianic age dawns the third temple must be rebuilt,
But all of Jerusalem is that third temple,
And the rebuilding is its gifting to the world.
In the Eternal Kingdom it is not a temple of brick and mortar,
That is just its shadow on the cave's wall.
And once that rebuild comes to pass,
Then the Third Age will explode in all directions,
From out of Jerusalem, ground zero,
And it will ripple across the lands and the waters,
And it will reach every kingdom and every nation.
It will become sharded into our shared soul,
And the Third Age will then dawn.

Today is my 60th birthday.
For milestone birthdays in the past, I used to leave the country from time to time.
At my 30th I went to Israel,
At my 50th Brazil,
And now, I can’t even leave my house.
I could have spent $100m and had myself shot into space
Though with Lily going to college in the fall,
Spending that money on anything else right now wouldn’t be wise.
Adventure is now defined as going to the supermarket.
Living dangerously would be doing that without a mask and gloves.
Though I’ve reached the age when I can now go at 6 AM
The modern equivalent of putting me out on an ice flow
Or an alternate to adult day care.
All for the sake of making my Neanderthal ancestors proud of
My Hunting and gathering skills.
I’d like to say ‘next year in Jerusalem’
But I’d really like to get to tomorrow first.
Ahem.

who, US?
by Michael R. Burch

jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there’s no Room
for the meek and the mild

... and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of “no Room!”
and Puritanical scorn ...

under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same —
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:

“who’s to blame?”

What is happening to Palestinian children in Gaza and the West Bank is a crime against humanity, financed by American taxpayer dollars. Keywords/Tags: Palestine, Palestinian, children, Gaza, West Bank, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Jesus, Christ, meek, mild, lamb, lambs, kids, Herod, Trump, Bibi, slouching, Beast, American, Christians, shame, blame

in the town of Jerusalem,
my home,
my warzone,
my heart's stone.

i set off from home,
with weathered sandals
and broken eyes

i sought for treasure,
not gold nor wine,
oil and water
a feast for two

and i
walked past a building.
a wind past trees,
light through holes,

and i felt a
strange sensation
in my heart.

it stood like a castle
stripped of it's
false gold.

i stopped to see,
among your disciple, was
a man with a robe
tied

around his waist
and he had
eyes with

a million oceans in them,
and had a fire within
so bright.

washing their feet.
and i wondered,

was it true, Jesus,
that you only acted humble.
or have you

hoaxed entire kingdoms into
believing your God.

divine encounters
wine skins and
calling the dead out of slumber,

and here,
you've ordered a counterfeit vine for
your branches.

the hope of you being real
was seeping into the earth,
like

depleted souls
desperately looking for its
own grave.

but i took a second,
a third look.
5 blinks and a breath,

isn't that you.

i looked again,
and i saw your arms like trees
reaching towards

empty mouths,
i saw a wine stained
robe, and

whiplashed skin,
i didn't know what it meant.

you invited yourself
stripped yourself of heaven
and lowered yourself to

wash the feet of those
who follow you.

oh, the awe.

oh, the sheer weight of

love that swept into, above and through me.

my ears starts to tear up
despite the drought inside me,
and i was filled up,
even though broken cisterns laid
bare
within me
and the world looked

just a bit brighter.
and life finally
felt like life.
and not

empty pots and
eyes that bled pain
nor is it a heart stabbed by its own
mother.

at that moment.
within this...
second.
glimpse.

bleep in eternity.
i knew you were God

and you are real.

Jerusalem, will of Man, of Ishmael, and not Isaac
Dome of the Rock and not House of God
A constant thorn and not peace of the Earth
We weep as those who wept at the Second Temple

Jerusalem, a lure, a trap, a stumbling block, a sieve
******* to false prophets and worldly kings
As Ishmael sent away, so shall Jerusalem be exiled
For One greater than the Temple is here: Immanuel

Jerusalem, Bride of God, shall descend from above
Trumpet blasts in skies, the world shall see and mourn
All Israel gathered and her enemies judged
The kingdom of the world becomes the kingdom of God