Written in Albuquerque (Terrace SE), February 2007. After the threat to the Jewish community is removed, the life is taken out of the golem. These are his meditations slightly before that event. Published in Yossele and Wings of the Gray Moon.
Earth The Golem
I know it will be soon.
I would like to go for a walk in the whistling air.
I would like to hear the boys sounding out the funny Hebrew
that isn’t so funny to me.
I would like to run my finger over petals again.
I would like to lean on a tree
as I have done,
two still living things, unprotected.
I would like to clap my shoes on cobbles.
No clap like it.
Cloud shows and hides, shows and hides the moon.
I think it is a brilliant eye that tries to see us
but the night is too black
and after a month of trying it dozes off.
I think the houses are shells for the breaths of children.
I think the roads are one road plotted by rain
which is the dream of the ocean.
I would like to have seen the ocean.
I would like to have had a bird in my hands for a moment
so my hands could be ears.
I would like to understand why it’s a matter for laughter
when a man chases his hat.
Why real laughter dwells in the eyes unheard.
Why ten men don’t gather around the small dog smashed under a cartwheel
to say Kaddish.
Why the new smell of bread makes me shake and shake.
Why no one has ever addressed a question to me.
I would like to be unable to answer.