• by Danielle Fisher

For the day our captives returned to Zion

our brothers and sisters stolen- ancestral lands left in ruins- ash choking the skies- teddy bears burnt next to tiny bodies- charred flesh all that’s left to identify- horrid sights – replaying over and over before our eyes- the trauma of generations- sanded off and uncovered anew- whispered tears staining prayer books- falling silently into pillows- sorrow a million miles wide- then the glimpses of miracles- our sisters returning- strong as lionesses- never abandoning their pride- our brothers still in chains- an entire nation grieving, pleading, groaning- a pain that screams wordlessly- then like a flash of lightning- a sudden downpour of rain in desert days- and we are like dreamers- laughing, crying, dancing- as they are led- upright to our land- the hopes of a nation- wrapped around them like a tallit– distinctions washed away- in the glorious rain- falling upon us all- quenching our drought- tamping down the fire of our pain- secular religious right left native foreign- bonded in simple unity- an entire nation singing- dancing- praising- knowing- screaming- Hashem loves me- tell me- who is like this nation- reaping laughter- from the tears we sowed

Art by the author

• Posted in Communal Tragedy
• HaShem, Israel, October 7th

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