Three years since the Lebanon War. Then we felt that the lack of leadership couldn’t get worse. But it has. Maybe that’s why I wrote this poem about the Golem yesterday:
THE GOLEM
Because I do not move
The dust here
In the attic of prayer
Falls evenly on my face,
On the wooden chair,
My arms, the floor, all
My clay flesh.
And I have not moved
Since the parchment
Was taken
From beneath my tongue.
I never saw
What was written there
But I know it gave me
Life, the power to obey
The Mahalal, to save
The Jews of Prague,
I knew not how pray –
And wasn’t told to think,
Just act in accordance
With righteous commands.
My earth, the water of life,
The fire of war,
And the spirit of a word
From the four corners of being
Gave me strength
To undo libels of blood
Of Thaddeus and those
Who made men into monsters.
Now a golem,
Returned to pure form
I await
Only the Divine,
The breath
To return
Order
To the world
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