Autumn In The Judean Hills

Nostalgia calls,

Beaming from ancient hillsides,

A legacy lay dormant,

buried in the Judean soil

contoured crests and valleys

unfolding along a lush river of time;

pouring into vast plains

of exalted humanity;

The Great metropolis, so white

Mediterranean meridian, alight,

yet sequestered in darkness

a lost princess is trapped in the west

My soul, an artifact

lodged deep in gilded rock,

awaiting excavation,

centuries of oppressive earth,

suffocating the revelation of something that truly was,

something that truly will be,

something that truly is

And I

ani, Anochi, afer vafer,

the intrepid psycho-archeologist;

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tracking ancient spiritual footprints,

vacated beings in the ash and dust,

remanants of estranged incarnations;

Unearthing hidden oars

Of copper silver and gold,

Unearthing hidden light

Achdus ben adam lchavero

Song and daughters of Israel:

Culanu b’nei Yaakov

And the fall trees glimmer,

Twinkling in the morning sun;

ascending towards the heavens

those techelees threaded curtains,

draped above this theater Divine

 Tree of change,

shedding leaves, extending roots.

As the chill dark winds gather force,

You remain a virtuoso in this cosmic dance.

Seasonal shifts, population drifts;

All will move forward today

Each, in its appropriated time