The Future of Israel

As spoken by the Voice of Wisdom O House of Israel, Heed the sound of the wind that carries ancient truth across the sands of time. Once you wandered through deserts and kingdoms, Once you suffered at the hands of empires and tyrants, And the world wept for you— So great was your sorrow that even your enemies offered you a home among strangers. In the year of man, 1948, Your banner rose among nations, a fig tree reborn. You were embraced not with steel, But with sympathy, Not with fire, But with the open palms of those who knew grief. Palestine did not draw sword at your arrival— The people opened their gates. Arab hearts, once warm, extended olive branches, Their tongues tasting of hospitality, not hatred. The children of Ishmael made room for the children of Jacob. But tell me, O Israel, Where has your wisdom gone? Have you not read the Psalms of David? Did Moses not teach you the weight of the stranger’s tears? You were welcomed, yet you conquered. You were protected, yet you occupied. You turned the promise of sanctuary Into an empire of watchtowers and blockades. Your defense turned into offense, Your wall of safety became a prison for others. The same anguish you once endured, You have now inflicted. And now behold— The desert echoes with bitterness, The blood of children calls from the soil of Gaza, And the ancient prophets tremble in their graves. The nations, once silent, begin to whisper. The Middle East, 473 million strong, Watches and waits, wounded and awakened. Will seven million stand against the tide of centuries? The covenant you had with justice— You have traded for iron domes. But remember, O Israel: Peace was your greatest weapon, Wisdom your strongest shield. But you drew the sword, and now the sword returns. Do not say you were not warned. For as the African proverb says, "The hyena called the ants, and the ants beat him to death." O land of Abraham, You still have time to choose the path of peace. Not all gates are yet closed. The Lion and the Lamb may still lie together. But know this—if pride be your compass, Then desolation shall be your inheritance. The future does not belong to those who conquer, But to those who reconcile. Let wisdom return to Jerusalem, Lest Jerusalem fall again.