Jul 5, 2015

Faces and Arms and Feet and Numbers [a #poem]

Faces and Arms and Feet and Numbers
(c) Rabbi Menachem Creditor

All I want to know is:
what would my number have been?

This face of mine, suddenly unfamiliar,
belongs to time long gone.
So why wouldn't my arm be the same?

These feet,
upon which I stand, shaking,
in my own home, my People's home:
Whose feet are they, really?

On this day,
marking the beginning of our defeat,
our walls breached:
Will this time be different?

All I want is:
Let there be no more numbers.

Jun 30, 2015

This Bench [a #poem]

This Bench [a #poem]
© Rabbi Menachem Creditor

A soldier who looked like me
walks by the bench
where I sit drinking my morning coffee.

The bench is surrounded
by Jewish dumpsters
and Jewish buses,
Jewish flowers.

The bench has a small sign
affixed to it. The sign reads:

'In memory of our dear mother
Hannah Hutrer, 1909 - 2004
Survivor of the Shoah.'

I sit on a survivor's bench
surrounded by Jewish flowers.


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Rabbi Menachem Creditor
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Learning About Justice [a #poem]

Learning About Justice
(c) Rabbi Menachem Creditor

Learning about justice 
takes time away 
from doing justice. 

But. 

If it strengthens
one enough to see it, 
to ache for it, 
to do it, 
then it only gives. 

The agitation of sitting
when a fire needs 
to be put out (or lit)
in the world
is God stirring.

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