Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Bar Kamtza’s Audience, Part II – Tisha B’Av 5774


An introduction:

Six years ago, I wrote a poem entitled "Bar Kamtza's Audience - Tisha B'Av 5768." It was published here. Every year on Tisha B'Av, I wrestle with my thoughts and try to get them down on paper or Word document, and every year, I am drawn back to that original poem, and I realize it already expresses just about everything I have to say about this day and Jewish mourning.

This year, I felt there was more to say. There was a different kind of helplessness. I don't know if I managed to express it adequately in this poem, but I made an attempt. Here it is.

Bar Kamtza’s Audience, Part II – Tisha B’Av 5774

And so I say nothing.

Pharaoh gained notoriety for worse.
But hearts were not meant to crust
Over with apathy. If I could reverse
The atrophy buildup and adjust

The output valves, would I? Perhaps
Not in the past; I had reason enough
To batten down the flaps
And cocoon away my love.

And still, the push from the masses,
Seething even with empathy, unity, outrage, outreach, patriotism, and prayer,
Sets arterial morasses;
I won’t go there.

And so I say nothing.

I’m stubborn that way. I don’t dare be wrong,
and hearts are secondary to what is just.
Each morning, dammed if I’ll play along,
Aware there’s no one I can trust.

And so I say nothing.

I wish my yearning were to build
a temple for all of Israel, and sound
a shofar to echo off the golden-frilled
walls until the nation gathered round,

but these days, I am filled to aching
with the nothing bound
in stone atria, and nothing moves me any more than breaking
these hardened walls down.