It didn’t feel as magical as they all made it seem,
submitting a ballot to select our next “king.”

Give fault to this election
or the overcast day,
but I stood there in line
with naught left but to pray.

I looked to my left and looked to my right.
Everywhere I looked — a similar sight.

Hearts beating fast, standing uneasy in line,
no greeting at the door, no farewell to find.

We went through the motions, scarcely sharing a word,
then quickly departed, once we’d made our voice “heard.”

“You decide history!”
“Cast your ballot!” they said.
But my hope isn’t found in that stroke of my pen.

No man on a platform can bring my soul light.
No statesmen in office would make my life right.

Yet I stand resolute, affirmed in my heart,
That my citizenship is in heaven,
and I’ve now done my part.

I’d do it again, there’s no doubt in my mind,
’cause it’s not for this world that I stood in that line.

“A king’s heart is like a stream of water in the hand of Adonai;
he directs it wherever He wants.”
— Proverbs 21:1 TLV