by Alan D Busch
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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poetry of grief within a Jewish holy place
I kindle a soul light for thee this eve,
when dawn awakens, I'll be able to see
a shadow of thy face ere mine eyes
as was before and shall always be.
Each morn I gather me to this place,
wherein I've heard G-d resides.
I search but Him I have not seen
His face as from Moshe hides.
A gray beard weeps over an ancient folio bent
In whom there yet burns the holy flame.
"Why art thou here too, Rebbe?" I ask.
"The reason, my son, is like yours the same."
"A lifetime ago I've forsaken him not,
Like you I won't let his memory to fade,
I am here to assuage a young father's pain
so that aloneness not make him any more afraid."
By Alan D. Busch