Jerusalem – the city of a thousand colors. The city where people from all over the planet come to see its many marvels and ponder its many secrets. Through the narrow streets of the souqs, you can find all sorts of trinkets, antiquities, and artifacts waiting to be discovered. The spices, the scarves, the pottery, the gold, all waiting to be sold.
Within each of these shops and stalls lie hundreds of stories and secrets, hundreds of ancient memories and dreams for the futures, endless amounts of wisdom waiting to be shared. For here within the heart of a city of such marvel lie the secrets of truth and mysteries of the unknown.
There is something so beautiful about seeing how all of these different religions, traditions, and beliefs started from this city and how they grew to touch the world. Even in the midst of such divisions between cultures and beliefs, this city stands as a memory that we are all one family on this earth, and that so many of our ideas have roots in this beautiful city.
The colors and spices, blues, yellow, and greens, all bright and bold through the small narrow streets. This city is an intricate maze of love and loss, hope and despair, millennia worth of layers of memories and care. For this city withstood the test of time, and now it’s brightly colored streets are full of scents of incense and candy, coffees and spices, bringing you back into your fantasies of Aladdin or the Arabian Nights. There is something mystical, something almost magical about this place, as if it were proving that its history, no one can erase.
The tales of the incense trail from Arabia and beyond echo through my mind, I imagine being in that place, in that land, in that time. For what has this very piece of incense seen? What paths has it explored and what places has it been? Trekking across deserts to reach this very streets, all the faces it has gazed upon and the languages it could speak. For the tales it could tell are endless, now it just sits in these small little baskets. Just waiting, waiting for the next chapter of it’s journey to unfold.
A flickering light and glorious sight of a flame igniting even in the darkest of times. The candles represent hope and peace, despair and yearning for truth, a seeker’s longing to know love. These candles sit in rows upon rows, each person leaving behind a prayer and a dream, the hopes of so many sitting in these very flames. For they are here one moment and then gone the next, yet their love and dreams sit in these little flickering lights, reminding the next truth seeker that there is hope. There is light. There is love even in the darkest of times.
Culture is the perfect expression of a legacy of a people. Culture is what is handed down from generation to generation ever since the world began. It is how we eat, speak, draw, talk, create, and love. It moves through our daily lives in more ways than we could ever imagine, and in Jerusalem it overflows from the streets and it’s people. Each proudly standing for one culture or another, proud of their own heritage.
Have you ever been to Jerusalem? Share your photographs!