To listen to an audio recital of the poem, click here
Time
has not taught men much
beating
against eternity
like
a panic-stricken bird
lashing
the cruel stroke of midnight
Who
now remembers the dry white stones
the
thorns the thongs the cacti
and
how the souls of our fathers
were
given up each to its own desert?
Ah
but now the season opens
fresh
as poppies white as dead men’s bones
earth
grows its harvest of summer fruit
sea
has not spilled over.
Who
at this equinox will taste my fever
these
hands that quake
these
eyes that burn?
Who
will count the changes of the inner clock?
Listen:
my skin is made of lampshades
my
heart is made of rainbow
my
blood is milk and honey -
which
of you will taste my promise?
The
bodies of men make strong manure
See
these poppies that were once Akiva
this
cactus that was once Bar Kochba
The
pyramid of Ramesses is strewn with ivy
No
time has not taught much
nor
time nor history
men
do not hear the prayers
exploding
in the synagogues
Nor
taught nor learned
the
clocks still toll the minutes
the
bone-white sand still fills
the
desert’s hourglass
The
sign upon my house still reads:
“Here
lives a Jew”
"Time Immemorial" is published in "Welcome To My World, Selected Poems 1973-2013", The Argaman Press. Click here to purchase the book.
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Copyright © 2014 David Prashker
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The Argaman Press
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