Roses and Razorwire

31 08 2010

The other day someone asked me where the name of the blog came from.  It is based on a poem I wrote upon returning to the States after living in Jerusalem for two years while working on my MA in Historical Geography.   For the title I was trying to think of a phrase that expressed the dichotomy one feels when surrounded by the beauty and conflict in the land.  I thought of a picture I had taken while helping reinforce the barbed wire around our campus after a break-in.  Here is the poem and the picture.

A year has gone by so fast

Like the passing of the dry

As clouds loom overhead

Ancient stones also loom

And then crack,



Rain has come and gone

Now hints of green are all that is left

People bustle, yell, and curse

Holiness remains in the whisper of the wind

Or the curl of smoke as censers clank

Similar to the weather and remnants of life

As the past is ever present and the future repeating

So my mind, my emotions, my being is in flux

Riding the spring gusts

Ever forward, ever higher

Being pounded into the gasping earth by winter torrents

But, it is this that makes me calm, at peace, enriched

Alone with my god

The brilliant hues in rose and red


Off the humble waves

They shimmer and vacillate

Rise and are subdued by the gentle breeze

Sitting on a precipice, the edge of earth; looking out

A foreign, alien landscape expands before me until the horizon

The cliffs, jagged and intimidating,

Rise and fall like the storm-driven waves of the sea

Lastly and most amazing are the squares

Perfect in size and shape

A portal to days long gone

In these earthen boxes the dirt shifts color, silently

Subtly revealing the layers of time with the passing browns and grays

The land is a shape-shifter; it is the people that remain the same

The land is a siren, a seductress

Tempting some with pieces of stone and metal, others earth and water

It is this metathesis, this opposition to itself that is so appealing

Between land and people, even land and land

There is beauty in this collision

There is love in the razorwire



One response

31 08 2010

I remember that picture and that scene. Love the poem!

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