I should have written this two weeks ago, but here you go:
There is a wedding in my village
For the first time
What an honor
What a privilege
There is a wedding in my village
In our own village
In our own church
The only church
The only standing building
A charming chapel
Plain yet lovely
Surrounded by green trees
And if you stand outside
You can sense the summer afternoon breeze
It feels like home
Our home
There is a wedding in my village
A simple
Charming wedding
Only family
And close friends
But you might find it in the press
There is a wedding in our village
Our village
Was taken away from us
More than seventy years ago
It’s still our village
And so you see
We are returning
It’s mostly destroyed
But not our church
Our own sanctuary
It will always be there to welcome us
To embrace us
Preserve and shelter
All of us
We the people of Malul
Will always celebrate our existence
In our village
Despite our occupiers
Who took it away from us
We cannot resist the temptation
To drive
Only few kilometers
And celebrate
Turn our tragedy
To love and joy
Because we still live there
Seventy years later
Ma’lul is still there
Still standing
With every block of that church
There’s a wedding in our village
What a bliss
August 6, 2018
