~~~~


~for Isabel (‘30), Alexander (‘31), and Wendy (‘35)~


~~~~


In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my Creator
Who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing,
None harsher

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, Adirondack thrones,
We overlooked
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded, sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants,
the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogo,
In this holy place,
Palace of Perfect Solitude

Amiable did we chat,
I, of family, this and that

He,
wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For He had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor, no defender in residence,
For we exchanged these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine

He returned this courtesy

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
sunset color palette spectacular,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, He said that he had yet to find
A beverage that could ever slake
his kind of thirst

For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past

Too much killing, this year,
It tires Me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less,
if at all

Thanks for Kol Nidre, He plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood,
Undisguised as praying

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For Him it attended, for Him, it waited,
Sails, wind whipped,
Sails, both black and white.


He stood to depart, my arms-he-grasped,
Me-taken, he-graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, the strength,
of my divine spark

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet, when next we meet, please

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He,
for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never a deception

Only He resting easy,
when He atoned before me,
And I gave him His absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine

this is how the poetry bows out



the tying of the tongue,
fingertips are shaved, nubbed,
heart seized, it rhyming ceased,
veins are dammed, arteries blocked,
the emotional fled, to a wild wind wed,
this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out

the remainders, sticky stuck, viscous,
through small pore filters they leak,
with the soap and the sins, all drained,
the shower uses holy water to no avail,
this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out

the brain cognitions loss, realizing a release
ending, time sensitized, the mantelpiece badly
cracked, each of the body’s words in reliquaries hidden,
the other worldly acquaintances greet him joyously,
commence a choir chant, a motet centuries old,

this, this! is how the poetry bows out

How long till your
tongues stop
spitting arrows of
assumptions of
delusional malice
against me?
Does it feel good,
to stoop so low
for your apparent
ego,
that you deceive
yourself into spewing
lores of lies?
These arrows will miss
me, as I sway to
my nature of mind.
And you will go on
for,
how long?

To be captured,
by the radiance in your eyes,
the flow of your hair.

To be enamored by your grace,
to be a guest of honor in your life.
to be a recipient of what makes people love you.

To be a part of your family, and a family for once.
To have a place in your lineage, and a place for once.
To have a place in your heart, and someone's heart for once.

I'm independent, yet I want to be claimed.
I'm my own person, but I want to be owned.
I'm my own man, but I want to be someone's.