Is it nothing to you, all who pass by? From nation to nation, she only shields. With eyes turned upward to the sky, She turns her pain to battlefields.
But not with swords or vengeful flame. She defends with prayers and tears. She dares to hope, she dares to name A world beyond the wound of years.
Only a mother holds that fire. The peace that cannot be undone. She bears what prophets dared desire. A day when war no longer comes.
O God who weeps like a river at night, Who walks among the burned and torn, Lift up this daughter in her fright. And bring the dawn where peace is born.
Photo:“ Banot Yerushalayim”, Jesse Paquin.“ a photo of my wife and baby daughter during a missile attack.”
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