Akamaister on Nostr: Israel: The Olive Tree Still Stands Of covenant, remembrance, and the hope of peace ...

Israel: The Olive Tree Still Stands

Of covenant, remembrance, and the hope of peace

Upon the hills of ancient stone,
Where shepherds watched their flocks by night,
A promise stirred beneath the stars,
A people called to bear the light.
Before the thrones of mighty kings,
Before the empires rose and fell,
A voice called Abram from his home,
Toward lands and years he could not tell.

By Jordan's banks, through desert sands,
Through exile's tears and foreign lands,
A people carried ancient words,
Their covenant in trembling hands.

Jerusalem, your stones have heard
The prayers of those who would not cease;
Through centuries of grief and blood,
They whispered still the hope of peace.

The eagle came, the temples burned,
The scattered children crossed the sea;
Yet neither sword nor emperor
Could end their ancient memory.

And darker fires would rise again,
Where hatred wore a modern face;
Six million names accuse the world,
A wound no time can quite erase.

Yet from the ashes, voices rose,
And Hebrew filled the streets once more;
The songs of children greeted dawn
Along the Mediterranean shore.

O Israel, your story speaks
Of more than armies, flags, or kings;
Of mothers lighting Sabbath lamps,
Of prayers and ordinary things.

The olive tree has weathered storms,
Its branches broken, scarred, and bent;
Yet roots run deep beneath the earth,
Where generations' tears were spent.

And I, a stranger to your blood,
Yet grafted by a grace bestowed,
Behold in you a mystery
That faith and history have shown.

I do not call your people saints,
Nor claim your rulers cannot stray;
For justice walks beside the truth,
And mercy must not turn away.
May every child beneath your skies,
Both Jew and Arab, wake in peace;
May swords be laid upon the ground,
And generations' sorrows cease.

For Zion stands through grief and years,
Her ancient hope a living flame;
Though nations rise and disappear,
Her children still recall His name.

And when the nations cease their wars,
When pride and vengeance lose their claim,
May Jacob's children dwell secure,
And all the earth exalt His name.

The olive tree still stands today,
Beneath the sun, through wind and rain;
Its leaves bear witness to a hope
That suffering has not slain.