The timeless sands of the fathomless caverns
Covers the holy dust of Jerusalem.
Treaded by saints and devotees
The hills stand witness to every passing moment.
Ornate by pines, palms, ferns and Acorns
The city is stirred by the songs of wind.
Blowing across the borders
The winds bring to life the beauty of Tel Aviv.
Escorting the Falcons, pigeons and Sea gulls
The waves break on the wooden deck.
The gush of cold breeze
Bears the whiff of the coastal jewel.
Afloat the gentle sea breeze
Is the eclectic laughter of the women chatting over wine.
The mirth settles as the morning dew
On the memorabilia of the broken past.
As the candles lit up the darkness
From the struggles to remain free.
The dusk salutes the ones
Who live in the hearts of many.
The crackling stream froths with the paper boats
As kids run past the peaceful peak of Har’Adar.
Romanticizing the stone walls of the old city
The Tower of David stands testament to the eras gone by.
The windmill in the horizon bejewels the spirit of the holy land
Kings and slaves, Monoliths and pagans
Belong alike to this enigmatic civilization.
The caverns of the West wall
Mystifies the shroud of the moonlit night.
Black and White fills the limestone rocks of the waterways
As the light takes the passerby in an era thousands of years before.
Dancing to the tunes of the new age
Are the ballets rhythms of the troupes of the cultural capital.
Under the midnight moon
The city of Tel Aviv transforms itself into a poignant story.
The cafes are still abuzz
When the Old market awakens to the smell of freshly baked cookies.
As the streets are filled with exuberant crowds
The kids await over their grandmas for the warm Baklava.
The smoke on the espresso settles down
As the city prepares for a brand new day.
