Seven Days

Seven days
between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.
Seven days
to cleanse our souls
our thoughts
and our emotions
and cleave to
the One Above.

Reminds me of another
seven days.

On My Own

This year,
I'd like to go to a shul
where no one knows me.

I'd like to sit in a corner
and cry my heart out
without feeling the pitying eyes
of my neighbors and friends.

I'd like to be alone
just me and my Father
so that I can really, truly
talk to Him.

I'd like to beg Him to see me
and remember me.

And if not for me,
than for my wonderful, supportive
caring husband
who deserves a child
ever so much more than I do.

But I can't.
I'll be davening in a shul
where I can't be
myself.

And who knows?
Maybe that woman
crying into her machzor
in YOUR shul
is me.

So leave me be.

New

I remember when I first got married.
Everything was new.
New apartment.
New roommate.
New pots.
New dishes.
New knives. (ouch!)
Even new garbage pails.

Every feeling was new.
New love.
New arguments.
New understandings.

The halachos were new.
The experiences were new.

Every day was a new day.

All we were waiting for was a
New baby.

But now, it is just the same old,
Same old.

Until there comes a
New year.

Call-tired

A (former) student calls.
Hi Mrs. Soul!
I haven't been in touch in a loooong while,
and just wanted to catch up.

Hey, Lost Soul!
So good to hear from you!
What's been going on on in your life?

So she begins to tell me the tale
of boyfriends lost and gained
of college woes
of family feuds.
She asks my advice
and I answer.

Then,
So, Mrs. Soul, how are YOU?

Now she wants to be friends.
Not mentor/mentee
Not teacher/student
FRIENDS.

Her life is so different from mine.
Her trials and tribulations are
a world apart.

So I answer
Been busy. At work, at home...
Busy and really tired.
You know.

She pauses.
Uuummm.... Yeah I know.

Pause again.
So, when are you due?

Due?
I said I'm tired.
Doesn't mean I'm expecting.

Sorry,
she says.
quite embarrassed
and hangs up the phone rather quickly.

I wonder how long it will take for her to call again.

Look Into My Eyes

Look into my eyes
I say
See the tears I'm crying.

Look into my eyes
I say
Hear the words I'm saying.

Look into my eyes
I say
Taste the bitterness I'm living.

Look into my eyes
I say
Sniff the nose I'm wiping.

Look into my eyes
I say
Touch the heart I'm breaking.

Look into my eyes
I say
And don't you DARE look down.

There's nothing doing down there.
Nothing at all.

Commute

Black.
Everything's dark.
But I've got to drag
myself
out of bed.
So early.
Too early.

Slow.
Everything's stopped.
All I see are the
brake lights
of the cars in front of me.
Snail's pace.
Inching forward.

Hi everybody.
We nod to each other
then pretend not to notice.
The nurse calls us in.
Then we hurry out.

And outside it's light.
Too bright.

The Royal (Two Lined) Scepter

I sit
and wait
for His hand
to stretch out
holding that wondrous
stick
with miracle of miracles!
two lines
promising me
the kingdom of my
dreams.

Alas!
I am still waiting
for that royal
scepter
to gain entry
into a world
I can only dream of.

So many
lines
have I seen.
sticks.
one-lined scepters.

Yet the second
eludes me.
Does not deign
to grace me
with its royal tap.