Poems about Expression

There is a place, my own I call it,
Where fiery winds blow messages -
Spirits of old -
Where graves of sages tell the tale,
History of our people…

I did not know this woman, whose life I feel so connected to now.
I never got to see her face, or look into her eyes.

You use your eyes to see me
And you use your mouth to judge.
As if our right should be
To hold a universal grudge.<

The following poem and paintings are the reflections of Sheva Chaya Shaiman, the artist for TheJewishWoman.org’s homepage. She and her family had been living in Tsfat until a few weeks ago when the katyusha bombings forced them to flee from their home...

Who am I you may well ask
I really wish I knew
If I am not myself at all
Then maybe I am you

There will allways be something anew
Something you´ll have to keep in mind
Something fundamental and oh so true
A wake-up push that you should find

Saw the Arch of Titus today.
Fought the simmering heat.
Temporary relief
of a cool ancient fountain found
triumphs to conquering Jews

I am an earthen vessel
For other-worldly fire
I carry my Torah
Under my heart
I turn my face towards the hot sun

In a moment
Between illusion and truth
Dreams are painted
By the wings of a butterfly.

Jerusalem: City of David, City of Gold.
How many nations have ruled you, have trampled your holy streets?
How many swords have pierced your aching soul?

Dear self, You are only human. You are not perfect, and really if you were, how absolutely dreadful that would be.

Although I never met you
Yet your allure calls to me
Beckons to me in my sleeping
and in my waking hours
Netanya, Jaffa, Zefat, and Haifa...

There once was a great rabbi,
Who had a dream one night.
And in the dream he got to see,
A most amazing sight.<

I wanted to tell you-
How sad I was feeling.
The struggle of searching for you
Was unreal...

When you heard all their lies, did you think it was true?
Or that that which they threatened they’d never see through?
Were you idle and mute as the cruelty grew?