by Robert Feldman (Maricopa, Arizona)
out here in the promised land
10 helpless clay-baked goloms are bathed
in thick, koshered Dead Sea mud,
while Nazarath weddings blast saxophones and accordions just up the road,
and the passion of a hundred Tzfat hora dancers
toast along with the other tribes,
all the while beckoning to Haifa salt Mediterranean scholars
hustling Haggadahs on shakedown Ramalah Rumla Reza Street
out here in the promised land
while holy Jerusalem just nods to this music and her maternal knowing,
Mt. Bental’s brilliant sparks of light effervesce the night sky,
opalescing enlightened orange and date trees,
while Be’er Sheva’s golden desert doors
and Tel Aviv’s hip hoppers down on Contemporary Road
harvest and garland yelloworange buttercups and purple pansies,
waving the bouquets up and back down these consecrated roads,
where yarmulked children hopscotch way past midnight,
dressed in innocent pigtails and peyus
their paisley sneakers swinging,
where bees become birds
become cherry trees
become exquisite, tender offerings
sharing salutary bonds etched in stone:
“all this is bestowed upon my people…
you have been given
the tears and the laughter of four thousand years,
endless sunlight to forever heal,
King Solomon’s stone and shekels,
oil and olives
dates dipped in tahini
honey dripping from pregnant rosebuds…
chipped austere cups brimming with cool sweet water”
Inspired to write poetry by iconic members of his hometown Paterson’s literary tradition, most notably Allen/Louis Ginsberg and William Carlos Williams, Robert Feldman helped found the Bisbee Poets Collective and facilitate the annual Bisbee Poetry Festival while residing in southern Arizona. He continues to write, publish, and present his work (including “Hineni” 2018; “Sunflowers, Sutras, Wheatfields and other ArtPoems” 2019), make fire paintings, & play tabla. You can find more information about him and his work on his website: www.albionmoonlight.net
Note from the author: “This piece was first composed while sitting early morning at an outdoor coffee shop at Shuk HaCarmel in Tel Aviv; the energy around me was invigorating and transformative, the comings and goings of the venders and shoppers…everybody was there all at once, and translating all that into this poem was pure simcha!”
The Jewish Writing Project 