Where Cynicism Dies

The annoying thing about cliches, is that they are often correct. They say that time heals all, but the truth is that some wounds cannot heal completely. 
True, as the years go by, the stabbing pain through the heart that was once unbearable slowly fades away. Yet it does not disappear. It gradually transforms into a more general dull and bearable pain which, like a slumbering beast, always lingers in the background, threatening to reawaken. Every now and then the pain is triggered again, the familiar suffocating lump in the throat giving way to a torrent of tears. If by a fleeting memory, a nostalgic melody, or by a very realistic dream.
Once fearing the pain induced by these graphical reminders of what once was, I now embrace them as one of the only few things that remain. For with the passage of time, stories fade into tales, and memories become blurred vague pictures of the past. Forgetting in this case, a terrible thing. 
Life stays its course, giving you the choice to either drown in sorrow, or live on. There are many who have succumbed to the former, yet most manage to get pulled away by relentless routine. 
Over 25,000 Israelis have met their deaths in war and terrorist attacks, starting with the murder of a Jewish blacksmith in Nes Ziona in 1888 — considered to be the first act of Arab terror against Jews in Israel — up to the most recent Israeli soldier to fall in battle. In any other country, this would be a bearable statistic. Yet in a country like Israel, with just over 8 million citizens, this number means that there is hardly an Israeli family left untouched by the grief following the loss of a loved one. 
This shared pain is part of our psyche, hard-coded into our very core as a nation. Anyone from outside attempting to understand Israel as a State, must be aware of this overhanging shadow. As Israelis, we must also understand the price we pay for living under this shadow, and the influence it has over every decision made by us, and for us.

Fields of Gold/ Sting

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold


Written in memory of Yedidya Geffen, a son, brother and dear friend, who was killed while treating wounded soldiers under fire in Lebanon, in the year 2000.
Advertisements

Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: