David Weiser

A List

001.Open the gate and enter.

              Why do you hesitate?

                         A garden lies within.

       You say you are not sure.

              The gateway might be broken,

          The garden a mirage.

       But what do you gain by doubting?

      And why not doubt your doubt?

          What will you lose by trying?

002.  I drew a ten-foot circle

                Upon the playground wall,    

           Leaving out an inch

          I asked my learned friend,

                 “What figure do you see?”

                           He looked and shook his head.

          He could not make the leap:

                  “There is no figure here;

                   Your circle’s incomplete.”

008.  Dreams are the vital rain

               Sent to heal my soul

                       When I am sick of strife.

       If I awake refreshed

               I know that dreams have come,

                        Leaving their gifts behind.

       Sometimes a dream remains,

               Like a stranded whale

                        Caught on the shores of time.

010.  The solitary man:

               A point without a line,

                         A link without a chain.

          So few today escape

                The solitary fate,

                         When crowds themselves are lonely.

       Look elsewhere then, and higher;

                Heavenward aspire,

                         That loneliness may end.

020. Prayer is not a penny

                Dropped into a slot

                         To release your favorite treat.

       It’s not an invitation

              To the palace ball

                     Or the mobbed amusement park.  

It is a small white flag

          Full of bullet holes,

                     Saying “I surrender.”

022. I study pots and pans,

         The pure and the impure,

                    And how they may be cleansed

By fire or by water.

         But only earthenware

                   Is saved by being shattered.

What then are we all

        If not earthen vessels,

                  Purified when broken?

133.  Under the eucalyptus

        I pause from sweaty labor,

                  A snapshot black and white.

I have been draining swamps

        Despite malaria,

                 Building the old-new land.

I squeeze the accordion

        As we dance every night,

                Applauding new-found strength.

151. The Unknowable

        Communicates to us

                As to a special child,

        With simple words and signs

                That (if we made an effort)

                        We could understand.

        He waits, though knowing all,

                To ascertain at last:

                        Did we get the message?

155. The dragnet of my prayer

                Takes in a range of thoughts,

                        Creatures of every kind.

        Some are forbidden food,

                Crawlers with swirling legs

                        That swarm into my mind.

        A fish with silver fins

                And iridescent scales

                        Is what I hope to find.

156. Allegory ascends

                Out of the soil we tread,

                        Out of our bodies' earth.

                It brings exalted sense

                        To all the sacred texts

                                Woven into our days.

                Yet modern eyes look down,

                        Dismissing the upward glance.

                                They see no evidence.

172. The tree that seemed so dead

                Is sending out new shoots;

                        Its boughs are flecked with green.

        A miracle occurs

                Though no one notices;

                        The angel flies unseen.

        Just lift your eyes, behold:

                Such wonders will appear

                        Despite your dull routine.

178. All natural perfection:

                The frequencies of waves,

                        The symmetries of trees;

        All animal abundance

                With underlying growths

                        Of sustenance from seeds,

        Are but the outer shell

                Of indwelling glory,

                        The cloak that spirit weaves.

187. Which oils may now be used

                To light the Sabbath lamp,

                        And which ones are forbidden?

        I feel the ancient chant

                Sung on Sabbath eve

                        Illuminate my heart.

        A spark of genius

                Was passed down from our fathers:

                        God is in the details.

200. Music heard in the morning

                Returns to me at night.

                        Not all of it, just echoes,

        As if I dropped a glass

                And all its crystal fragments

                        Composed one ray of light.

        Or if I closed my eyes

                And saw my memories

                        As wild geese taking flight.

235. They cannot comprehend

                The holy day of rest;

                        Their labor goes unblessed.

        They cancel the commandments

                As inconvenient

                        And idolize dissent.

        We ask the questioners:

                Why have you assumed

                        That eternal truth is doomed?

 259. You ask me who made these:

                The thick rain and the fine,

                        The wet snow and the dry.

        Who gave the crab its claws

                And turned the wild goat’s horns?

                        Who carved the turtle’s shell?

        He who made you made them

                And gave your mind these questions,

                        Whose answer you deny.

280.  All things now fall apart.

                The flashing screen goes blank;

                        The racecar only stands.

        Like trees transformed to stone

                Great cities disappear,

                        Enshrouded by the sand.

        All matter must dissolve

                But spirit will endure,

                        If our souls stay pure.

313. The master of Cremona

                Walked into the forest

                        And listened to the trees.

        The one with the clearest voice

                He cut up into tone-wood

                        To carve a masterpiece.

        Our Master hears our voices;

                He marks us great and small,

                        And the best are first to fall.

328. When the vesper sparrow flies

                And evening’s heat subsides,

                        We’ll meet in the secret grove.

        Fruit from trees and vines

                With drops of fragrant dew

                        Revive our weary souls.

        Together we shall hear

                The all-pervasive Word

                        Echoing in our bones.