{"id":13703,"date":"2015-06-14T06:48:18","date_gmt":"2015-06-14T10:48:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=13703"},"modified":"2015-06-14T06:48:18","modified_gmt":"2015-06-14T10:48:18","slug":"13703","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2015\/06\/13703\/","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"<p>There are places that feel like the center of the universe.<br \/>\nWe had our time in Jerusalem, 2009.<br \/>\nSuddenly everything slowed down a there was nowhere else to think to be.<\/p>\n<p>First week in the old city I couldn&#8217;t stand the light,<br \/>\nEvery brick acting as a mirror throwing fists kept me inside.<br \/>\nI needed some distraction or the all consuming fire of location would burn me whole.<br \/>\nJust moments away from the nexus of prayer, Al Aqsa Mosque and Kotel Ha&#8217;Ma&#8217;aravi.<br \/>\nThe holy sites for book bound souls and I was afraid to see.<\/p>\n<p>Slowly I climbed the steps, checked rooftops and found the passageways. Old city snakes it&#8217;s way into hearts, inspires war, &#8220;drain the blood but do not stain the street.&#8221;<br \/>\nI saw the very map of separation and felt safe on the wrong side of segregation.<\/p>\n<p>Some time later, upon my rooftop in lotus position,<br \/>\nKrisha in my sky, and the god of Ezekiel.<br \/>\nThe muezzin summon all the faithful.<br \/>\nI feel the pull of worship,<br \/>\nConfused in my belief but trying to unfold every meaning.<\/p>\n<p>With the burden of another day,<br \/>\nBefore the sun&#8217;s full scorch,<br \/>\nPeaceful people make the walk,<br \/>\nTo shule or mosque or church.<br \/>\nClouds can also hear the call,<br \/>\nAords shake the heavens high,<br \/>\nAnd in my seat I feel the worship,<br \/>\nOf raindrops from the sky.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>There are places that feel like the center of the universe. We had our time in Jerusalem, 2009. Suddenly everything slowed down a there was nowhere else to think to be. First week in the old city I couldn&#8217;t stand the light, Every brick acting&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":343,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13703","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13703","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/343"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13703"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13703\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13788,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13703\/revisions\/13788"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13703"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13703"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13703"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}