I can't
September 03, 2024
How can we approach a new year
when time stopped on Shemini Atzeret
-- "the pause of the 8th day," when
God beseeches, "linger with Me
a little longer," and we relish
the sukkah's peaceful fragility
for just one more day before
jubilant circle dances with Torah
in our arms like a toddler --
last year we woke on that awful day
to the news of Hamas attacks
and now it's Elul again, when
"The King is in the Field," but
this year God walks with us
in endless mourning, paying
shiva call after shiva call, and
there are still hostages, though
six fewer living ones than last week
not to mention whole neighborhoods
razed to rubble, resurgence of polio,
forty thousand Palestinian souls
dead, an endless abyss of grief?
I can't write an Elul poem this year
when my heart stopped beating properly
on Shemini Atzeret and may never
feel entirely unbroken again.
The pause of the 8th day. See Silence after the chant, 2014.
The King is in the Field. See Walking in the fields, 2017.