…..Instructions for Seeing Jerusalem
Leave your hotel after the city is quiet,
after the sun has gone down and
the shops have closed and
the tour buses are parked
and the crowds along Ben Yehuda street
have all gone home,
and start walking up any hill
into any neighborhood,
moving along the sidewalk in the shadows
until you come to a secret corner.
Then you stop and stand
and it will come to you:
the sweet hum of families
in second and third story apartments,
windows thrown open to the night,
going about their ordinary lives—
talking, laughing, eating a late meal—
a child being read to by an elder,
a song or two sung in Hebrew or Yiddish,
a smattering of English,
a touch of Portuguese.
Listen as a plate is moved on a table,
as someone says the coffee is ready.
Hear a door closing, a footfall
hurrying up marble steps.
A light goes out in a backroom window.
A man rolls over in bed
to a woman who is waiting.
A child cries out in his dreaming.
A candle is lit.  The wind stirs.
A cloud moves across the moon.
And you hold your breath and wait
for it is finally secure.
You have seen the streets to their rest.
It is safe once more
until the sun comes up again
over the Jordanian hills at dawn.
But do not be afraid as you
go back down the hill
if a cat of some sort
crosses your path as you walk,
for the cats that prowl Jerusalem
without regard for neighborhood—
more at home here than any who come to pray—
have been sent by the gods who
occupy the great gloomy hills
that encircle this ancient place
so you will be assured
they are very much aware
of your passing.

Ronald served on the Board of Directors and as Writer In Residence at the Holocaust Memorial and Research Center, Orlando, Florida.  Ronald is a novelist, poet, and playwright.  He lives in Tampa.