Virtue Is Suffering

I was forty four when for the first time, I heard the silence.
I held my breath for a few seconds, to hear it louder.
Then, like the light peaks through the dark clouds,
I heard soft, but loud, a melody of a chorus.
Loud as it was, it whispered…

“Virtue is suffering”
“Virtue is suffering”
“Virtue is suffering”

I didn’t know this song, never heard it before,
Nor did I understand what it told.
Like someone, who never waltzed before,
Suddenly, getting dragged by her lovers hands,
Right on the dance floor.
What am I to do?
But now,
What am I to know?

As the chorus sang surely, the silence paralyzed my thoughts.
Like a soldier’s determined march, it invaded my soul.

“Virtue is suffering”

I closed my eyes,  effortlessly the tears flowed.
As the word “suffering” gently swept over my body,
I took a flight all alone.


It was me … there.. sitting on a concrete step.
Black and white stripes drooping down over my skeleton.
My eyes staring at the gray sky hopelessly looking for hope.
My land in my thoughts…
Oh, is that the nourishing cedar scent of my land,
On the tip of my nose?
Here I am a Hebrew King… a prophet…
Where the roots of the Cedar trees reach the Hebrew core.

With my vision deprived of the sun’s light,
In the mud my eyes search for what once was mine.
Anchored into the mud, I try to find comfort.  
In that moment, my grandmother’s reflection of making doilies,
Captures my mind.
Suddenly, like millions of white daisies, love laces over the filthy ground.
Like her white doilies carefully scattered in every corner of our house.
Reminders of her love…

As my eyes search for the light somewhere in the sky,
There is only God by my side.
“Shalom King!” he says.
And I know there is light!

“Virtue is suffering”
And the light has never abandoned us.
Shalom Jewish king! Shalom!

Back to the silence, tears dwell in my eyes.
As the hand takes me, my soul lands on the red sea.
Is that woman me? Sitting on the shore,
Wrapped in black silks…
Her skirt is heavy from the salted sea.
Soaked in freedom, but she can’t feel it.
Her feet are chained in the minds of men who rule her.
How dare she dream!
It’s me….

Her womb is the prison for the next daughter,
Who also will be chained to the same spot as her mother.
As she gazes into the shimmering sea,
Darkness is all she sees!
It’s me…

“Virtue is suffering” her Allah says, while he gently caresses her hair
“Elhamdulillah” says she,
 “My Allah is by my side, now darkness shall turn into light above the sea”

Back to the silence, tears remain in my eyes.
The melody now rises like a grand spirit
As I sit there I become more of me.

I am past and future in the present me, I always was, just never knew it
I am them, they are me.

I am a Jewish King
I am a Muslim queen
“Virtue is suffering”

A smile conquers my face.
There is the hand grabbing me
And my soul gently lands on the soil
Where a mother is standing alone,
Crying by her son’s grave stone.

Son, that fought for freedom.
Imprisoned his mother into grievance over love.
A mother’s love…
Her heart is as heavy as the grave stone.

Her tears flowing as she stares into the blue outline of a white star,
Beyond the white, a glistening sky.
She wonders if the red and white stripes will continue to hold her.
Just like they held her son,
When he fell on the enemy’s blood soaked ground.
She says “Jesus is my Lord!”
“...Love never fails…” she was taught.
In the name of her lord, she will continue to love.
That's all a mother can do, she knows.
Her Jesus caresses her face gently.
In light I am, in light you will be.
“Virtue is suffering”
My holy Mary!
It’s me…

“Virtue is suffering”

I am past and future in the present me, I always was, just never knew it.
I am them, they are me.

I am a Jewish King
I am a Muslim Queen
I am the mother of the American dream.

Virtue is suffering!