A Prayer for a Different Time : Meditation for C. E. R. N.

In the heart of the scorched desert, where time itself feels like a hallucination, Arab and Jew stand on the precipice of history. This isn’t your neat and tidy unity; it’s a raw, gritty journey through the trenches of ancient enmity.

In the crucible of endless strife, where the smoke of battles past still lingers in the air, these two warriors, Isaac and Ishmael, emerge not as foes but as comrades in the chaos. They’ve seen the horrors of the past, the ghosts of violence that haunt their steps, and they’re ready for a different kind of battle — one where love reigns over pure hatred.

Their shared love for the unforgiving land, a land that has tested the mettle of generations, is the bond that ties them together. It’s not the polished rhetoric of peace talks but a primal connection to the soil beneath their feet, the ancient stones that have borne witness to their struggles.

In the shadows of history’s darkest chapters, where the ink is stained with blood, they cast aside the violent gods of old. The demons that once fueled their animosity now bow to a shared dream of unity, where the land of their fathers and mothers becomes a sanctuary for all.

As soldiers who’ve tasted the bitter brew of conflict, they know that a seed needs the absolute darkness of the battlefield to germinate. This isn’t a sanitized tale of unity but a battle-hardened call for a truce, a ceasefire of the soul.

In the name of peace, they stand, veterans of a different war, in a land where every grain of sand has soaked up their shared history. Arab and Jew, battle-scarred and world-weary, they declare an end to the endless cycle of conflict. It’s a message that resonates not in neat rhymes but in the dissonance of their shared experiences.