Poem | The Leaves
This poem by Rachel Mennies looks to the leaves for signs of resilience and finds them “more alive” for having braved the dark.
This poem by Rachel Mennies looks to the leaves for signs of resilience and finds them “more alive” for having braved the dark.
In hidden bunkers. In gleaming museums.
David Israel Katz writes us into spaces that negate sense, and importantly, negate our impulse to try to locate sense.
The terebinth tree in the Arava is at least a thousand years old, as was her mother before her.
How to explain the poem that writes itself after the final poem, after the book has closed?
The fig tree’s fruit falls to the ground, Its purpled flesh still burning.
We buy the house next door to my parents, because dread is proportional to the years.
Blessed are you, God our God, Sovereign of the World, who has given us the Torah of truth, planting within us life everlasting.
Sachs dropped the masks that had let her speak through the murdered Jews of Europe and wrote from her own position in the world.
Many Jews arrive in Israel for the first time and experience a shock of recognition, as if the land and its history, both ancient and contemporary, were their own.
The ketubah, a Jewish marriage contract that dates back to Talmudic times, is an object of ritual beauty.