We are four-ish days away from heading back to the Holy Land. I recently picked up a book of poems by Margaret Atwood, so had the form on my mind yesterday during my walks.

MONDAY

The air is not welcoming
when I first step outside

A low and brooding veil
Trees stifled in a damp grip

In my hand, a morning cuppa
Leaving sleep behind as
Walking toward the tasks and tensions of impending departure

By afternoon, heat eviscerates humidity
Cirrus vapors gild a carefree sky

Thoughts of a return across oceans and seas

Cramped, competitive streets and
needy neighborhood cats and
being present in the whirlwind of history

What will change?
What will we learn?
What mood will the skies reveal?