A Birthright Rhyme
MY NATIVE TONGUE
I come from a city not very large
The views are pretty but beware they charge!
Where lights are plenty but people more,
Like sand in a dessert and the sun roars.
So many souls all cramped together
Feels like holes in a wings feather.
Then I think to myself, It’s time for a new perception;
Maybe a bit of reflectin, soul gettin, salad dressin.
So I get on a plane with 34 strangers
Headed to the motherland, am I in danger?
We unpack our bags and choose our beds
While we joke and laugh and pick our heads.
A culture is born: mishpaha 228.
What adventures await? New memories create? Topics debate and backgrounds relate.
We spend hours on wheels
But days it feels.
Till we finally arrive
To this wall our history derives.
Where countless souls come to share
Both good and bad, they come in pairs.
In hopes our prairs are being heard
By this giant mirror.
And on this journey join natives anew
Who’s hearts are put aside replaced by a gun or two.
Judge them as we tend
Are they soldiers or are they friends.
But this story is not replete
For It takes 4 more to make this family complete.
To ground us but keep us high,
To appreciate the water but not forget the sky,
To help us float and teach us to fly…
To be our tour guide,
The end of the road is sadly within reach
But if there’s one thing I can preach
Or at the very least beseech
To every one of you and each…
It’s that when you find the ones
Who treat you like tons
Grab a hold, a really tight grip, and leach.
You guys and gals r like the air in my lungs;
You are my native tongue.
This poem was read to Birthright group 228 by Alexander Burlak