Today's poem is a reflection on grief and mourning, of individuals, of communities and of nations.
In Mourning
Sarah died at Hebron, her last breath,
And Abraham wept, mourned her death;
The tears flow, they water the dry land,
And time blows away like desert sand;
The prophet picked up the dead man:
The man of God, lived so short a span,
Until he died, and took him to his city,
Buried, mourned, and wept with pity;
All Israel will mourn for him, bury him:
The darkness comes, light grows dim;
The lowly will be set on high, above,
Those who mourn enfolded in love;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh:
Memories radiate, time cut in half;
Half life, that which remains, lament,
Weeping, garments torn, and rent;
A time to mourn, a time to dance:
Merry meetings past, happy chance;
Grief is destitute, she sits on the ground,
And bones are gathered in burial mound;
Mourn with bitter wailing, hope is dead:
And all that remains is the fear and dread;
Comfort all who mourn, and dry the tear,
Light the candle, take away all the fear;
Put on sackcloth, my people, roll in ash:
Where death intrudes, a chasm, a crash;
The earth will mourn, heavens grow dark,
The destroyer will come, will leave a mark;
How broken is the sceptre, broken the staff:
And the tyrant remains, with mocking laugh;
But the empires will fall, and tyrant’s throne,
Once so mighty, now mere dust and bone;
Nineveh is in ruins, who will mourn for her?
And nothing can halt it, nothing doom deter;
The land trembles, and the earth cries out,
And there is nowhere safe, no redoubt;
Woe to you well fed now, eating well,
For you will go hungry, your nations sell;
Huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
Weeping for a lost world, as you flee;
Wretched refuse of your teeming shore:
Lost are the moneyed plenty you adore;
Woe to you who laugh now, you will weep,
As in turn your day comes, time to sweep
Away injustice; then shall be no more tears,
Coming in the clouds, and an end to fears;
A wind is blowing clouds across the skies,
A time to end grief, a time for joy to rise;
They will soar on wings like eagles high,
Over sea-washed, sunset gates they fly,
Towards the lamp beside the golden door,
Journey onwards to the farthest shore.
In Mourning
Sarah died at Hebron, her last breath,
And Abraham wept, mourned her death;
The tears flow, they water the dry land,
And time blows away like desert sand;
The prophet picked up the dead man:
The man of God, lived so short a span,
Until he died, and took him to his city,
Buried, mourned, and wept with pity;
All Israel will mourn for him, bury him:
The darkness comes, light grows dim;
The lowly will be set on high, above,
Those who mourn enfolded in love;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh:
Memories radiate, time cut in half;
Half life, that which remains, lament,
Weeping, garments torn, and rent;
A time to mourn, a time to dance:
Merry meetings past, happy chance;
Grief is destitute, she sits on the ground,
And bones are gathered in burial mound;
Mourn with bitter wailing, hope is dead:
And all that remains is the fear and dread;
Comfort all who mourn, and dry the tear,
Light the candle, take away all the fear;
Put on sackcloth, my people, roll in ash:
Where death intrudes, a chasm, a crash;
The earth will mourn, heavens grow dark,
The destroyer will come, will leave a mark;
How broken is the sceptre, broken the staff:
And the tyrant remains, with mocking laugh;
But the empires will fall, and tyrant’s throne,
Once so mighty, now mere dust and bone;
Nineveh is in ruins, who will mourn for her?
And nothing can halt it, nothing doom deter;
The land trembles, and the earth cries out,
And there is nowhere safe, no redoubt;
Woe to you well fed now, eating well,
For you will go hungry, your nations sell;
Huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
Weeping for a lost world, as you flee;
Wretched refuse of your teeming shore:
Lost are the moneyed plenty you adore;
Woe to you who laugh now, you will weep,
As in turn your day comes, time to sweep
Away injustice; then shall be no more tears,
Coming in the clouds, and an end to fears;
A wind is blowing clouds across the skies,
A time to end grief, a time for joy to rise;
They will soar on wings like eagles high,
Over sea-washed, sunset gates they fly,
Towards the lamp beside the golden door,
Journey onwards to the farthest shore.
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