445 Religion poems

(Alcaics) O mighty-mouth'd inventor of harmonies, O skill'd to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages; Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abdiel, Starr'd from Jehovah's gorgeous armouries, Tower, as the deep-domed empyrean Rings to the roar of an angel onset— Me rather all that bowery loneliness, The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring, And bloom profuse and cedar arches Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean, Where some refulgent sunset of India Streams o'er a rich ambrosial ocean isle, And crimson-hued the stately palm-woods Whisper in odorous heights of even.

One rat across the floor and quick to floor's a breeze, But two a whisper of a human tongue. One is a breath, two voice; And one a dream, but more are dreamed too long. Two are the portent which we may believe at length, And two the tribe we recognize as true. Two are the total, they saying and they saying, So we must ponder what we are to do. For every scuttle of motion in the corner of the eye Some thought of thought is asked in us indeed, But of two, more: there we have likeness moving, And there knowledge therefore, and therefore creed.

1 God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. 2 Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov'reign will. 3 Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. 4 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. 5 His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding ev'ry hour; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow'r. 6 Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.

April 1992 something was wrong when buses didn't come streets were no longer streets how easy hands became weapons blows gunfire rupturing the night the more we run the more we burn o god show us the way lead us spare us from ever turning into walking matches amidst so much gasoline

“The lamps are burning in the synagogue, in the houses of study, in dark alleys. . . .” This should be the place. This is the way the guide book describes it. Excuse me, sir can you tell me where Eli lives, Eli the katzev— slaughterer of cattle and poultry? One of my ancestors. Reb Haskel? Reb Shimin? My grandfathers. This is the discipline that withstood the siege of every Jew; these are the prayer shawls that have proved stronger than armor. Let us begin humbly. Not by asking: Who is This you pray to? Name Him; define Him. For the answer is: We do not name Him. Once out of a savage fear, perhaps; now out of knowledge—of our ignorance. Begin then humbly. Not by asking: Shall I live forever? Hear again the dear dead greeting me gladly as they used to when we were all among the living? For the answer is: If you think we differ from all His other creatures, say only if you like with the Pharisees, our teachers, those who do not believe in an eternal life will not have it. In the morning I arise and match again my plans against my cash. I wonder now if the long morning prayers were an utter waste of an hour weighing, as they do, hopes and anguish, and sending the believer out into the street with the sweet taste of the prayers on his lips. Today this creditor is at your office; tomorrow this one in your home; until the final creditor of all places his bony hands upon your breast. Faster! Dig your heels into the dust! How good to stop and look out upon eternity a while. And daily—at Shahris, Minha, Maariv, in the morning, afternoon, and evening— be at ease in Zion.

Three dark buds for the Trinity On one twig I found in the lining of my coat Forgotten since I broke them from the tree That grows opposite the RSA building At the top of Vulcan Lane — there I would lay down my parka On the grass and meditate, cross-legged; there was a girl Who sat beside me there; She would hold a blue flower at the centre of the bullring While the twigs on the tree became black And then slowly green again — she was young — if I had said, ‘Have my coat; have my money’ — She would have gone away; but because I gave her nothing She came again and again to share that nothing Like a bird that nest in the open hand.

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry. For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him. For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way. For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness. For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer. For he rolls upon prank to work it in. For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself. For this he performs in ten degrees. For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean. For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there. For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended. For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood. For fifthly he washes himself. For sixthly he rolls upon wash. For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat. For eighthly he rubs himself against a post. For ninthly he looks up for his instructions. For tenthly he goes in quest of food. For having consider'd God and himself he will consider his neighbour. For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness. For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance. For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying. For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins. For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary. For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes. For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life. For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him. For he is of the tribe of Tiger. For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger. For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses. For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation. For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he's a good Cat. For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon. For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit. For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt. For every family had one cat at least in the bag. For the English Cats are the best in Europe. For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped. For the dexterity of his defence is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly. For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature. For he is tenacious of his point. For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery. For he knows that God is his Saviour. For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest. For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion. For he is of the Lord's poor and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually—Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat. For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better. For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat. For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music. For he is docile and can learn certain things. For he can set up with gravity which is patience upon approbation. For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment. For he can jump over a stick which is patience upon proof positive. For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command. For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom. For he can catch the cork and toss it again. For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser. For the former is afraid of detection. For the latter refuses the charge. For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business. For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly. For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services. For he killed the Ichneumon-rat very pernicious by land. For his ears are so acute that they sting again. For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention. For by stroking of him I have found out electricity. For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire. For the Electrical fire is the spiritual substance, which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast. For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements. For, tho he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer. For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped. For he can tread to all the measures upon the music. For he can swim for life. For he can creep.

This chicken is atonement with wings trapped in the Rabbi’s fist The hen shall meet death but I will enjoy a long, pleasant life

for Abbe, Sally, and Joseph I Amidah Hear my personal prayer,the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart

I was thinking: God has abandoned me, So, what of it—he is a priceless ray of light, Or a thin needle in the haystack of man. And cruel. I have turned away from him—torment me no more. But which of us is more cruel? More to be feared? The one who has no body, of course. He has made us endless, vast— So that our grief will know no bounds. Providence, 2001