PRUNING OLIVES 121511 - SOLITARY WALK
SOLITARY WALK
I am a child of Judah
and the mark of Cain is on me
I am a fugitive in every place I go.
and my name is Joseph Friedman
and I tend the olive orchards
on a hillside just a short walk from my home.
There, the silver trunks are ancient
and the olive branches fruitful
but the breeze that shakes the leaves
still lo, “Where is God? Where is God?”
I am a child of Esau. I am Ali Abed.
I once lived…olives near my home.
I would prune the trees in winter
when the sap sinks deep in Gaza
and the children won’t be throwing their stones
But the soldiers came at midnight
with their power saws remarking
and now the sap has nowhere left to go.
Where is God/ Where is God?
My name is Jimmy Taylor
and I am a Future Farmer
and my project is nine trees out by the road.
and the trees have been neglected
all these many years untended
a home now for a solitary crow.
So, I climb with my saw and clippers
up into the brittle thicket
busy choosing what will stay and what will go.
And I note my meter progress
and I wonder if I’ll ever
rid the olive trees of dead wood,
I’m so slow. And I read the Sunday paper
and I daily read my Bible
and I see the scars of pruning down below.
(c) 2002 Royal T Music
I am a child of Judah and the mark of Cain is on me I am a fugitive in every place I go. and my name is Joseph Friedman and I tend the olive orchards on a hillside just a short walk from my home. There, the silver trunks are ancient and the olive branches fruitful but the breeze that shakes the leaves still low, "Where is God? Where is God?" I am a child of Esau. I am Ali Abed. I once lived...olives near my home. I would prune the trees in winter when the sap sinks deep in Gaza and the children won't be throwing their stones But the soldiers came at midnight with their power saws remarking and now the sap has nowhere left to go. Where is God/ Where is God? My name is Jimmy Taylor and I am a Future Farmer and my project is nine trees out by the road. and the trees have been neglected all these many years untended a home now for a solitary crow. So, I climb with my saw and clippers up into the brittle thicket busy choosing what will stay and what will go. And I note my meter progress and I wonder if I'll ever rid the olive trees of dead wood, I'm so slow. And I read the Sunday paper and I daily read my Bible and I see the scars of pruning down below. (c) 2002 Royal T Music