My Jerusalem is not of politics
It is not violence, terrorism, fear, oppression
It is not conflict lines.
My Jerusalem is not of religion
It is not fur hats, muezzin calls, knee length skirts, crucifixes
It is not constant battles over women in tefillin, Yehuda Glick at Al-Aqsa, a 200 year old ladder outside of a church
It is not God.
My Jerusalem is not of tourism
It is not sunblock, wide-brimmed hats, groups of three or more
It is not crispy falafel, succulent shawarma
It is not tiny tchotchkes to bring home that will break within weeks
It is not camels, desert, falsified narratives.
Is of life
It is fresh, in season fruits and vegetables
It is 5.90 NIS for Eged
It is harsh words screamed in Hebrew
It is walking to shul through the quiet streets
It is “Nu?” and “Tachless” and “Shabbat Shalom”
It is long walks through many shades of brown
It is warm, loving families
Eager to host for a week, a day, a meal
It is friends who will never leave my side
My Jerusalem is not of gold
My Jerusalem is of steel