the wall stands before me, solid and crumbling all at once
wailing under the weight of time and pressure and prayers
pieces of paper are smoothed gently into cracks
and the cracks are soothed by kisses and tears
by those who stand in the g-d contended land
i stand in front of the wall and wonder
how much hardship have you seen through all of this time?
did you cry when my people poured into israel after the holocaust
and held tightly onto you like you were g-d himself?
i know that you hugged them back
next to me stands a young israeli girl, rocking back and forth through the aleinu
on my other side is a holocaust survivor
she says the shema like a lullaby through teary eyes
i am american, i do not speak a word of hebrew, i only know enough prayers to fill a child’s hand
but here, surrounded by my brethren, i pray without guilt of my ignorance
you see
my friends do not know that when i come here, that when i step on g-d’s contended land
any tension i have fades away for the first time in five thousand years
because i am in one of the only places where i can be me
israel is home to me, home to my people, and will be home no matter where i end up
i feel a kinship with everyone i lay eyes on
even with the strangers that sell falafel and shawarma in the sun-bathed cobblestone streets
here i do not speak in hushed whispers about my judaism
for once in my life, for once in my people’s lives, i can be loud
my words to Hashem can be strong enough for him to hear
and by g-d it feels like slipping off tight shoes after a long day
it feels like comfort food and warm pajamas after exams
it feels like coming home for the first time, every time
so i stand at the wall and let myself relax
let myself be taken away by the thousands of murmurs of davening jews
let myself be taken through the gap in the red sea
let myself be taken home
Emily Chester, 16, of Bayside, is a junior at Nicolet High School. She wrote this poem for a creative writing class after reflecting upon her two trips to Israel with her family.