VII. Where the People Have Gone
SPRING IN THIS PANDEMIC
Dear you, to wonder at how this one
strawberry-wheel-look-alike unseen to the eye
strikes demands our domestic rushing world
come to a halt we are confined at home
alone or with others where else to go
the wonder of what each separate distance
between us holds where no tsunami-cyclone-
hurricane-tidal-wave-earthquake no
man-made war has done to surpass
this stop-us-in-our-tracks palliative
care of moment directs our footsteps through
ever-present uncertainty how we see
out of our small-vision vistas of grand
human kindness songs hands clapping
praise to the known givers violins we hear
played on foreign balconies orchestras
each musician playing in a room at home
through this great upheaval to common routines
we practice dignity with grief for the ones lost
we practice dignity with spoken gratitude
to hold dear to the Invisible in our midst
—Reizel Polak
March 25, 2020
***
AND THIS IS A MEMORY THAT WAS
When the house was destroyed the scattered ones gathered on the hill
The smell of burnt plastic still lingered in our nostrils
The world went back to its natural ways. We did not stop
the vegetables from rotting, the eggs from beating
themselves. The food remnants grew moldy on the plates
We gathered crumb after crumb
Bread falling like sins on the eve of Passover.
We tried to remove the smell of burning that stuck
under our fingernails as we fled.
We squatted on the ground when we needed to
Relieving our intestines at the side of the road.
Old men wrote equations on ledger paper
calculating what was left and what we would live on.
We sat orphaned like the last consolers
waiting for the big sleep.
Who among us remembered
a thin man who stood on a crate
in the middle of the bustling market on the eve of the Sabbath
and shouted in a quiet voice:
Yet forty days
And the house shall be overthrown.
—Amichai Chasson (tr. EC)
***
HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM LOCKDOWN
After receiving my first shot of Corona vaccine
Oy, to be in Rambam*
Now that the vaccine’s there,
And whoever walks into Rambam
Sees, one morning, well aware,
That the people crowd, processing’s brief
Round every table, beyond belief,
While the queue inches, as the guards allow
In Rambam — now!
And after three weeks, there will follow
The second shot (I’d prefer a pill to swallow!),
Mark, where my concert tickets on the ledge
Lie in their folder, unused, since Passover,
Bottles and food-box — at the counter’s edge —
That’s the wise housewife; brings supplies twice over,
Lest family think she never could recapture
The former life, but she is an adapter
And though the future’s rough with outings few,
All will be well when mankind wakes anew,
The Café cups will fill; schools will resume,
—Far brighter than this present time of gloom!
—Rumi Morkin
* Rambam is a hospital in Haifa. The poem is a parody of a poem by Robert
Browning, ”Home-Thoughts, from Abroad.”
199.
This sky-blue paper mask,
My thin and fragile shield,
Might save me from disease
But won’t improve my mood
As the fatal curve grows steep
And mortalities increase.
May this cerulean shade
Invoke the grace of heaven
And make infection cease!
—David K. Weiser
***
TO MORROW: A SINNET SONNET
Since yester twilight
Along the borderline of tonight
With fits of thirst & hunger
Among storms of pain
Under attacks of evils & viruses
Between interludes of insomnia
Beyond both hope & expectation
At the depth of darkness
Amidst the nightmare
Through one tiny antlike moment
After another…
Against deadly despair
Until awakening
To the first ray of dawn
—Changming Yuan
***
Today is 7 May 2020 ’another day of covid lockdown’ 13
Iyyar 5780
Woke up this morning reincarnated as a Cohen; in a zen monastery
Went to pre-dawn lecture, poor teacher; no one laughed at his jokes
Found my Tefillin, wrapped the usual six or seven; today came out 6
No coffee, but good tea. Rice cakes - mezonot - but no Torah - hum.
Stuck here cause of some corona thing - but no solar eclipse - Odd
Just came to deliver their kuggel and tzimis and borscht - mizkanim
Funny accent - everyone wants a Koan - HEY - I’m a Cohen - Nue?
Failed my Zen exam. Everyone congratulated me. I wanna drop out
Went to sit in the Beis Medresh - No benches or chairs or stenders
Looks like everyone is waiting to be assigned a chevrusa or idunno
Books? Where are all the Books? Where are any Books. Boringgg
OK maybe a nigun or something. Just some guy hammering wood
Really, I’m starting to lose my mind here. Why are they just smiling
Enough! Time for Shemona Esrei - my deepest BOW into stillness
No sidur. My eyes are closed. The light fades. Ancient words now
Saved from mission drifting, just the essential framework for living
From deep within my bones, the deep enlightenment of our fathers
Conscious of the ineffable, of the indeterminant, of the eternal now
Where am I going. Why am I running. Such beautiful kindly words
Awesome Majestic Superlative The ultimate causality - so sweet
Everything is a gift, in the merit of their actions; so many blessings
My life-mind-energy - protected - connected - personal - universal
The words echo in my mind. The lips of my mind are proclaiming
This is the universe. This is me. There is no me, only this vessel
A dream. All a dream. Full of Mitzvah opportunities I choose from
We. A royal we. The chosen we. An ever faithful we. Always true
/Chaim-Meyer Scheff - My morning writing today…in Jerusalem/
***
WHEN MASHIACH CAME
Those days when Mashiach came,
The birds rejoiced, so suddenly surprised
To own the quiet, empty skies
Blissfully alone above the city and beneath the clouds
Flying in wild abandon above the silent streets
The deserted parks and the shuttered stores—
Enjoying their solitary songs and cries,
In the suddenly sweet air.
It had happened overnight,
Throughout the land
that the human beings disappeared,
all their contraptions and their noise
Behind their windows and their doors,
Their planes and ships and trains
Locked down, their engines
And their motors idle, were now on pause.
.
Those days when Mashiach came,
The geese, the jackals, coyotes and wild boars
Emerged from the bit of woods still theirs
And walked the roads, the highways and the lawns,
At the water’s edge, gazelles chased the waves
Romping beside the shore.
When Mashiach came
He was asked ”where have all the people gone?”
”Living in mortal fear
Of a tiny army dancing on a pin with room to spare
Has them cowering in mortal fear,” he replied,
”Running here and there, masked and muzzled,
their own worst enemies
jumping from a stone dropping on the concrete.”
When this time becomes the stuff of lore
Mashiach came and the world was ours,
The clever ones were locked indoors
Where they could do no harm,
Their devices their only connection to the world.
And the story was passed along
Till it was embedded in each memory;
Meanwhile, Maschiach listened outside each door
Each official office and each meeting
And heard all the secrets, and deals
Where those in charge were dividing up the spoils,
As if nothing had been learned,
About how irrelevant they are
In a world that was perfect before they came.
And so he left and carried back his report
To God who has become mightily tired and annoyed
That sadly nothing has changed,
So that Mashiach is destined
To once again go back and forth.
— Roberta Chester
***
DOORWAY
You have already gone into the outside.
Can you go out to the inside?
The doorway: two doorposts, lintel
And threshold.
A gleaming square
A chariot of light
To anoint it with blood and sign:
A fourth dimension opens
The pyramid of blood has opened like a bud
And the heavens break forth
Years of gazing.
What we see with closed eyes:
A black square rimmed with gold
We enter into our freedom
—Sivan Har-Shefi
tr. Esther Cameron
JERUSALEM 5781/ 2021
. . . this day I created you. Ask of Me and I will
give. . .
Psalms 2:7-8
This first morning
after the third lockdown —
awesomeness —
we walk the glorious
Jerusalem streets
to the once-again
open-to-all Wall.
—Felice Kahn Zisken