The Little Review (littlereview) wrote,
The Little Review

Poem for Yom Kippur

We Remember Them
By Rabbis Sylvan Kamens and Jack Riemer

In the rising of the sun
and in its going down,
we remember them.

In the blowing of the wind
and in the chill of winter,
we remember them.

In the opening of the buds
and in the rebirth of spring,
we remember them.

At the shining of the sun
and in the warmth of summer,
We remember them.

In the rustling of the leaves
and in the beauty of autumn,
we remember them.

In the beginning of the year
and when it ends,
we remember them.

When we are weary
and in need of strength,
We remember them.

When we are lost
and sick at heart,
We remember them.

When we have joys
we yearn to share,
We remember them.

So long as we live,
they, too, shall live,
for they are a part of us
as we remember them.


I'm posting tonight as I do not expect to have time in the morning before services. (Yes, I know that technically I should not be on the computer at all, but I turned my lights on when I got home from dinner and it's all downhill from there, you know?) I did spend half an hour trying to track down the names of the authors of this poem, which I mistakenly believed to be a translation of Psalm 113; it's in our synagogue's self-printed services for children every year but uncredited; I had to do some hunting a few years ago to find out that Debbie Friedman wrote "L'chi Lach," too. In the course of this hunting I discovered many wonderful poems and readings, like the ones at Ritualwell, so it's not as though I wasn't thinking about spiritual matters.

Spent today with my husband's parents, hiking the gold mine trail at Great Falls, then having dinner with my parents at their house. Everyone was much distracted by Redskins game with Terrible Horrible Ending...ah well, the Red Sox won, the Cubs won, we have to look at the positives. My younger son, to annoy both grandfathers, announced that he is rooting for the Yankees. He took much grief about this. I loathe and despise the Yankees but I rather admire his orneriness.

And how did I spend the hours after Kol Nidre when the kids were in bed? Watching Bob Roberts. I haven't seen it since Bush took office. I am terrified at how much more relevant and believable it seems now than it did when I first saw it in the theater. And Alan Rickman totally freakin' rocks my world. But that thought could lead to sinful ones, so I had better say goodnight.

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