There’s no place like home

May 31, 2021 § Leave a comment

Father

May 30, 2021 § 5 Comments

The three brown berries

That you read to every shabbat

Grew away from you.

Three brown berries, you called us.

Where are the three brown berries now?

Which trees grew from the seeds you planted

If any?

Did you plant in vain

Again and again

Father?

The separation of things II

May 20, 2021 § Leave a comment

Leave town. When you leave, leave like you’ve never left before.

Throw your bra out the car window. Somersault.

Go to shul one final time and sit in the chazzan’s seat. Take out all the sifrei torah.

Dance.

Celebrate your freedom and grief for what you are leaving behind.

Embrace this moment because it cannot be repeated.

Kiss the mechitza goodbye, my lovely.

Leave your salty tears on the siddur.

Love.

Muriel Barbery’s Extraordinary Wit

May 20, 2021 § Leave a comment

People aim for the stars, and they end up like goldfish in a bowl. I wonder if it wouldn’t be simpler just to teach children right from the start that life is absurd.

Little One

May 18, 2021 § 1 Comment

The only pain that grows heavier over the years is the pain of not being able to bring you into this world, in peace and safety.

I punish myself every day for failing you.

Lost

May 18, 2021 § Leave a comment

Sometimes my beautiful mind subjects me to a meloncholy far beyond bombs and basic heartbeats.

In those agonising, tortuous moments I decide to live or jump, live or jump.

Some day I know that I will tire of this world, and the meloncholy will take me with it.

I wish I could start over with a new, untraumatised brain.

This unfathomable suffering, this mental war of attrition, has left my mind an empty shell.

After the fact

May 17, 2021 § Leave a comment

I went to shul for minha.

A small, dark woman pulled a curtain between me and the men.

I was no longer a part of what was happening.

I went home.

I rode my bike on the tayelet as the sun went down.

Sad Finale

May 17, 2021 § Leave a comment

Don’t suck away at an old wound
Lest it fester and become a river of blood.

Do not sleep on anger, or foster anxiety.

You be you.

With or without the Torah.

Trauma II

May 11, 2021 § 1 Comment

Fear drives me backwards and into myself.

My body will not sleep.

My mind races.

Don’t invest in the fear, I tell myself, don’t feed it.

But I cannot reverse.

I take a hard right on PTSD Avenue and continue up Agony Boulevard.

This is a one way street. Every cell in my body knows it, and they come out and wave long green flags, and spin like cheerleaders.

If I look at them from afar, they are a dark green field, with grass rippling in the wind, and trees rustling among themselves.

The thought of home grounds my soul.

Mediterranean Meditation

May 4, 2021 § Leave a comment

Where Am I?

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