Israel, land of milk and honey
No one told me about the rocks.
I heard about a stumbling stone
But I guess my heart was blocked.

Israel, land of promise
No one told about your earth
Even now still drenched with blood,
The seeing stole away my mirth.

Land of my heart, Land of my soul,
Land of my spirit’s birth,
I gaze upon your high places
Idols raised out of the earth.
Land of the People, land of the Book
Foretold home of God,
When will we look to the heavens
And not this piteous sod?

Israel – your land is drenched
With centuries of Abel’s blood,
Crying out in desperate pain
When will it be enough?

Israel – your people weep
And cry for, they know not what.
Stumbling through forests of stone,
Afraid they will be cut.

Land of the Prophets – Land of Hope
Hear the spirit’s call.
Turn now from your high places,
Before on you, your idols fall.
Land of blood and land of rock,
Land of ancient pain,
Look up to the heavens
And desire Messiah’s reign.

I wrote this poem in 1983, during my first year in Israel. It may need a bit of rework (eventually), but it essentially speaks out the cry of my heart for my nation and my people to turn to their Messiah.