At the foot of Sinai Israel encamped
as one man with one heart
A people once divided, revamped and unified…
Later on, to build a Tabernacle to the Lord
each man contributing what he could afford
600,000 individuals, serving together the One they adored
________________________________________________
The actual count was 603,550 men over the age of twenty.
Including women and children brings the estimated size
of Israel's population at Sinai to about three million.
Trumpets blaring, lightning flashing
Mt. Sinai smoking, thunder crashing
Moses may have reached the highest of heights
Yet it looks like God rigged up the first strobe light
The lowest mountain in the Sinai
a mountain cloaked in humility
unassuming, meek, of no particular prestige
no fortress strong in times of siege
No high peak on which to stand
no platform from which to view the sand
Little more than a glorified hill
a mountain with neither ego nor will
Yet on its top God spoke to the world
though of all men, only Moses heard
The meekest, most humble man who ever lived
To him, God chose His Torah to give
Lightning heard
Thunder seen
Moses standing
In between --
Ram's horns blaring
The cosmos staring --
G-d's stlll small voice
with Israel sharing
Behind Mount Sinai
On the asphalted road to a seaside town there is a hole in
the road, a nasty hole a car hitting it could have a bad puncture.
A rocket, albeit a puny one, caused this.
Fired by people who will not take no for an answer they refuse
to acknowledge this grand scale theft of their country.
Well, one has the right to defend oneself, so bombs, rockets fall
on a tiny piece of land no bigger then fly dropping on a map.
When Arab pride and goliath are sated there will be peace but
the underlying causes of this ritual and one-sided bloodshed will
never go away till goliath sees sense he is not David with a sling
fighting the whole world in the odd belief he is both the chosen and
the persecuted people. Jerusalem was promised to the Jews,
but not them alone; the pledge was made by Jewish soothsayers,
who knew when a lie is told often enough it becomes a truth.
Throw songs in dry sand
or fight mount Washington.
Image a parrot’s tongue and
fingers leaf five at once:
that’s at least four lost
and there’s no saliva
at all
the corridor tiles a chair
wheels a common nut
to the local john
one hand over the above
since he’s naked.
Saliva? On the verge.
A sig outside.
Where’s the paper?
No notes nor lyrics
yet they sing omm as I
see the inhaled yard
to climb the stairs again.
Yet there’s a sink in my room,
pencils and what’s on the news
or draw another face
mask on your life
dreams which are guessed
and where I’ll be long
for sure.
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