Jerusalem at 6am
© Rabbi Menachem Creditor
I. The Cyclist of King David St.
Thinning, cropped hair,
dark skin over Eastern European features,
he passes me by,
rolling downhill,
inscrutable expression on his face.
Is it my tallis and tefillin bag? My American sandals? Perhaps it's that he noticed me noticing him.
Maybe he's just a man enjoying his morning ride, and being in Israel fills my eyes with Jewish meaning.
II. Davening in a Secret Garden
Purple.
Fuchsia?
Definitely not pink.
Glowing, growing all around.
Strings from my tallis
dangle and sway,
suspended over newly-placed
Jerusalem stone.
I choose to daven
just yards from the Old City.
It's more colorful here.
III. Almost Home
© Rabbi Menachem Creditor
Almost there, I tell myself.
Just over that next hill,
and I'll be home,
safe and sound.
Walking is good, I tell myself.
Wandering is exploring,
the chance to take in new surroundings,
learn, adapt, and respond.
I'm so busy convincing myself the road ahead is clear and safe, I trip over a rusty metal plate in the sidewalk, reminding me where to place any bomb I might see.
