Boston North Inc.
Present Memories
If I Forget Thee O Jerusalem
By Sonia Schreiber Weitz
My Son, my only son
My own beloved child,
My land, my only land
My own beloved Israel
And soon they shall meet
Standing face-
Upon the Hill…
So old, so wise -
These People Israel;
Of prophets and sages,
Of scholars and martyrs…
And he, my son,
Who but yesterday
Was only a child…
Will he find it in his heart,
Will he search his soul to know
The love for his people,
For his land?
Or has it been there
All along -
To question, to discover
His heritage…
But what if I failed
To teach this boy love,
What then?
How does one bequeath
The longing for Zion?
Does he know that this land
Is his very own, his eternity,
His Eretz-
Will he meet her as a friend,
A visitor, a tourist,
Or as her rightful heir?
Will he shed a tear
For the everlasting glory
When his eyes behold
The city of David,
His cradle… his source…
Will he cast away the doubts
Which plague his generation
And quench his needs
With something of value?
This boy, I begot,
Will he truly see the beauty
Of a desert sky at dawn…
Or the magic of the stars
‘pon the Sea of Galilee…
Will the meaning of all things
Come to him with the rising sun
Above the Judean Hills…
Or in the embrace
Of the Valley of Sharon
In the burning dusk…
Or, within the Tombs of Hebron
Where the spirit of
Our Patriarchs Lingers on…
Will he grasp and hold the moment
At the Western Wall… and hear
Voices raised in prayer
Near the Temple Mount…
The stones rough and warm
To his touch…
(whoever said that stones were cold).
Will he plant his feet
Firmly in the soil
And know the strength
Of his ancient roots
Which grow ever so deep
Beneath the Memorial at Yad Vashem…
This boy, I pray, will understand
And walk his land with pride,
His head held high…
O Lord my God,
See that my son and my land
Come to know each other well,
And in faith come to cherish
The sweet promises of hope…
This Nation that is both
Ancient and so very young,
And this boy who is not yet sixteen –
Tie a bond between them
And bless them with love
And eternal peace –
When they meet upon the hill…
Hear, o Israel
Be gentle with my child,
Welcome him…
JULY 2 1968 -
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