Dear Amnon,
That day we went to the Kotel was the first time I have ever been there. I was awestruck by the wall. I found it to be so awesome that I had to record my emotions. The first line of the poem came to me the moment I saw the flowers with thorns on them growing from the wall. From there the poem kind of went on its own course, and I think I will be going to the Kotel again in the future, to fully realise its power in my mind. Here is what I wrote.
Wind and Stone
Thorns grow out of it.
The sky bursts forth from it.
People pray around it.
What can be said,
of something so cruelly betrayed.
But the thorns have flowers!
Lively birds soar out of the cracks.
Yet one lonely feather,
is forced away by the wind.
Could it have stayed?
Perhaps if it prayed?
Did this feather have a say?
Perhaps it left another way.
Or was it mocked by its kin,
Who still had a home on the birds skin?
Perhaps the feather left in shame?
for the prayers it had it could not claim.
Do birds pray at the wall?
Do thorns drink the fruit of their prayers?
Or do the birds squabble,
with their feathers in a hobble?
Only the wall knows,
which way the wind blows.