Author David YB Kaufmann
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Shabbos, When Healing Comes

5/17/2013

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Friday night the shtetl shul prays silent:
stars - Shalom Aleichem - welcome angels -
peace descends in waves of words and candlelight;
after prayer the men linger in hats 
and formal coats and talk of crops and croup,
of news and nu, vos macht du - how are you -
the gentle time before the journey home.
Unnoticed slips a not-yet-man, a boy,
a student of the day, to the stand
where the leader sings and in loud self-discourse
declares his name to the wall, or heaven -
his voice thunder trembles through the talk,
a lilt off-key a warning note the soul’s
askew. Held-breath we listen to the rave,
a mind in quiet rage against itself,
declares the Shoah of its soul in words
that shock the Shabbos in us all - inside
‘my struggle’ turned around. He ends as if
in prayer, head bowed, descends, raven-rimmed eyes
turn, search, expecting nought, or all, a plea 
perhaps. In echo of the still small voice
the rabbi says ‘ok.’ The not-yet-man
with thanks, deflates, and prattles through kiddush,
a Sabbath band-aid on his tortured mind.

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  • Home
  • Books
    • Scotch and Herring Mystery Series
    • Trees and Forest: A Mystery
    • The Silent Witness
    • Two Minutes for Torah
  • Reflections
  • About
  • Contact
  • Fan Club