||Archipelago Eyes Open to Praise Samuel Menashe||
Reeds Under Water by Samuel Menashe
rippling under my eyes
Bulrushes tuft the shore
At every instance I expect
what is hidden everywhere
Adam Means Earth by Samuel Menashe
I am the man
Whose name is mud
But what’s in a name
To shame the one who knows
Mud does not stain
Clay he’s made of
Dust Adam became—
The dust he was—
Was he his name
Adam: from Adamah, ‘earth’ in Hebrew
Manna by Samuel Menashe
For David Curzon
Open your mouth
To feed that flesh
Your teeth have bled
Tongue us out
Bone by bone
Do not allow
Man to be fed
By bread alone
||And He afflicted you and let you go hungry, and then fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your forefathers know, so that He would make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but rather by, whatever comes forth from the mouth of the L-rd does man live.|| ~ Devarim 8:3
Paschal Wilderness by Samuel Menashe
Blue funnels the sun
Each unhewn stone
Every derelict stem
Engenders Jerusalem
Stone Would Be Water by Samuel Menashe
Stone would be water
But it cannot undo
Its own hardness
Rocks might run
Wild as torrents
Plunged upon the sky
By cliffs none climb
Who makes fountains
Spring from flint
Who dares tell
One thirsting
There’s a well
The Shrine Whose Shape I Am by Samuel Menashe
The shrine whose shape I am
Has a fringe of fire
Flames skirt my skin
There is no Jerusalem but this
Breathed in flesh by shameless love
Built high upon the tides of blood
I believe the Prophets and Blake
And like David I bless myself
With all my might
I know many hills were holy once
But now in the level lands to live
Zion ground down must become marrow
Thus in my bones I am the King’s son
And through death’s domain I go
Making my own procession
Old As The Hills by Samuel Menashe
The lilt of a slope
Under the city
Flow of the land
With streets in tow
Where houses stand
Row upon row
The Annunciation by Samuel Menashe
She bows her head
Submissive, yet
Her downcast glance
Asks the angel, “Why,
For this romance,
Do I qualify?”
Hallelujah by Samuel Menashe
Eyes open to praise
The play of light
Upon the ceiling—
While still abed raise
The roof this morning
Rejoice as you please
Your Maker who made
This day while you slept,
Who gives grace and ease,
Whose promise is kept.
"Let them sing for joy upon their beds." –Psalm 149
Promised Land by Samuel Menashe
At the edge
Of a World
Beyond my eyes
Beautiful
I know Exile
Is always
Green with hope—
The river
We cannot cross
Flows forever
