|
Editor |
|
Madison, Wisconsin, USA |
The Far and the Near
1
I gaze abroad where Israel mourns and fears and walks
toward peace, and waits for the next blow, and light the candles of this feast to show the ancient miracle, though none
appears to succor us in endless war that wears the people down, till they no longer know their way, and take each
other for the foe, and stumble into openly-laid snares.
Yet none can live against the whole world's will. May
Understanding's angel then arise, spread forth her wings, enlighten others' eyes to see their need of us, and lend us
skill to show the world, upon Jerusalem's hill, its own heart, and the home of all the wise.
2
Some gather Israel's title to its land from words by the
author of the world enscrolled; these things my reason would not understand, nor credit more than any tale that's told, save
that I do revere the destiny of pilgrims once again upon this coast cast up by pounding waves of history and drawn,
too, by the longing they held fast through centuries of exile, when they stored all good that they could dream in Zion's
walls: a world that now could deem that vision false must be to evil and despair inured. O stranger, if to you
the earth is dear, then seek to guard her walls, and make her title clear.
3
There never will be peace for Israel while others make
divisions in the Name, begin with us the tale they have to tell, yet seek to overwrite our prior claim. We must be
bad, to justify the breach they made between the teacher and the taught; to prove the news and truth of what they teach, flaws
in the former teaching must be sought, the ancient word not suffered to contain its own futurity, nor gather in the
fruits of its own sowing. Though we mute rebuke, the conscience of an unconfessed fault will not let the unrepentant
rest, and our misfortunes blossom from that root.
4
I have heard "peace," but in this world we see that words
do not mean always what they show. Those who press Israel relentlessly, I fear, mean by it what some dare not know who
speak it after them. I see a creed whose thirst for power concessions cannot still; I see the world's material need
and greed making the nations subject to that will. Shall it be proved that there is might alone, material might,
that hears no victim's cry? Soon, soon upon earth's tablets will be shown if there are stars of mercy in our sky. O
G-d! bid your wise justice rise and trace limits to force; preserve the human place.
5
My trouble is, I am too much aware. I see the whole implied
in every part, I see the far embedded in the near, each masking face lifts up to show the heart in which I see, alas,
the worm engalled, or changes to a dial on which I read eternity and time, or a threshold to some forbidden room
where victims bleed. I had a friend once who confessed to me she'd seen all the Greek tragedies enacted around her,
till she made herself not see. Then I began to see, and she reacted by fleeing. I was warned, and am served right; only,
I lack the skill to turn from sight.
|