Tag Love

Malakhi

freyathewriter 2 Comments

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A teacher, a rabbi came to this earth

courtesy of a star, a manger and a virgin birth.

Ages before, despite the temple’s destruction

oil of one day stretched out to eight –

– imagine the miracle!

Hope lights our times, shadows flee in their wake

Hanukkah, Christmas in one time combined.

Faiths diverge but converge all the same

in their wishes for peace and love and brotherhood,

if you can cut through the soundbites and posturing, that is.

I am a mongrel, one foot in the Deep Mid Winter of my past

My heart swelling to Baruch Hu as I whisper Kaddish in memory.

Y’hei sh’lama raba min sh’maya

Bitter sweet at this time of disruption

For all that is gone, for all that has broken

For all that divides in words left unspoken.

Amen.

Shalom.

Salaam.

Shalom Aleichem.

As Salaam Aleikum

Oseh shalom bim’romav hu ya’aseh shalom

Let us welcome the Malakhi, in whatever form he – or she – takes.

******

It’s been a while. Longer than I thought. Life, you know?

Last night saw the first night of Hanukkah and Christmas Eve – two miracles for the price of one. It inspired me to take some time during a small oasis of calm to share my thoughts, my feelings, to highlight just a tiny slice of the similarities in the underlying hopes of the three Abrahamix religions, not to mention in some of the words used in greetings and wishes bestowed.

Yes, it’s probably a bit clumsy (I’ve not written for a while) – but it’s all me.

Whatever faith you follow or not, I send my love to you, my brothers and sisters in this messed-up, argumentative worldwide family of ours.

 

All vows – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 31 Comments

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Let us celebrate ourselves

Let us forgive ourselves

Let us rejoice in our imperfections

Let us be perfect despite (because of) our crack’d carapaces

and (despite) because of our fissured souls

Let us be gentle to ourselves

Let us speak softly, kindly to ourselves

Let us do all of those things

and yet strive to be better, next year.

Let us do all of those things

for ourselves, for others

Let us be who we are.

Let us be.

Tonight on dVerse Poetics, the wonderful Walt asks us to celebrate. We can mark a special national or international day, a day of faith (or no faith), or just celebrate our lives.

I have chosen to mark Kol Nidre, in my own very liberal Jewish way. Yom Kippur is marked by the Kol Nidre service at the (evening) start of this holiest of holy days. Translated, the Aramaic of Kol Nidre (meaning ‘All vows’)  annuls any personal or religious oaths or prohibitions made by you to God for the next year, so as to  avoid the sin of breaking vows made to God which cannot be, or are not upheld.

I have taken this and turned it into a celebration of our glorious imperfections, of the brokenness of being human. Make of it what you will – I enjoyed writing it very much.

I’m looking forward to reading what others have chosen to celebrate over on dVerse – why not take a look?

Bedlam – A Dash of Sunny

freyathewriter 18 Comments

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I imagined you, standing over me,

breathing your death-breath into my soul.

I imagined my lungs inflating with the ashes of you

and I pressed against my chest to stop inhaling you –

but you were too strong.

You held my gaze,

your hazel eyes piercing mine

and I could see the thoughts in your head –

the roiling, churning black and vomit yellow

and I could not stop them infecting my

azure blue and foxglove purple.

You stole my days

You infused my nights

You were relentless.

I imagined you standing over me

and yet when I reached out for you,

you were not there.

 

It’s time for the latest prompt from A Dash of Sunny, where this week we are invited to write on loss and madness.

It’s no secret here to those who know me, that my dad died suddenly in 2013. I truly thought, during the time of sitting for 12 days, watching him slowly fade from coma to death, that I was going mad. I’m sure I wasn’t alone. It felt so unreal and surreal, and yet everyone at some point loses someone they love. How are we so unable to explain and prepare for this?

Anyway, during that time, and for a period after his death, my dreams were, unsurprisingly, very disturbed. it’s how we process and attempt to make sense of it all.

I hope this isn’t too depressing. Also – I am fine now! It’s just part of life’s rich tapestry, isn’t it?

Please do head on over to A Dash of Sunny and brace yourselves for strong, honest writing!