2023-10-27
by
Eleanor Goldfield
I can’t look
Neither can I look away
Were it my child I would find a way
To dig my fingers in to temples
To hold in place unmoving
And force the eyes of the world to see
And so, I look
my hands to temples
Whispering kaddish for the children of the crescent moon, of the star,
eyes to sky, feet to roots
for the vast myriad we are
for those who planted olive groves
Whose olive branches
Now belong to broken family trees
etz chaim is wilting
I hold my gaze steady
Tho the rest of me trembles
Can we see for those who hold missiles
and see nothing but nakam -
and think they can avenge our history
by killing their future
But we are not avenged by this genocide
We are condemned by it
With every bomb you drop in our name, our future is poisoned -
soaked with the blood of children.
No mikveh will cleanse these moral wounds.
I hold my gaze steady
Blurred but honest
For all who do not
Grief, unbounded by binary
I weep for it all
And unromantically I hope
a jagged, relentless hope
the kind that tears down walls
I do not flee from my Judaism in these times,
I hold it closer
For it is not the evil we see
It is a salve.
It is my people chanting “never again”
It is my people who demand beauty and peace in our name
for the homes we build
wherever we are
connected beyond and before borders
to each other, to ancestors
It is justice, justice we shall pursue
It is the memory of our teachings
that we whisper in new ears
It is a steady gaze
When others refuse to see