Chilling poem indeed. And beautiful essay, roomie! I will reread the Grammar of God when I get home. Strangely, I am reading this in Amsterdam at the apartment we have rented across from the Jewish Historical Museum and the Holocaust monument of names. Sending love.
I heeded your advice and also read the poem slowly. The last line lingers in my brain, in my soul, haunting and speaking to me of the horrors of the past, the dark warnings of the present, and the dangers of the not-so-distant future. I shivered when I read that line.
What a beautiful comment, Audrey! I agree on that last line. I found myself thinking about it and thinking about it--the immediacy of it. I could touch it.
Thank you, Audrey, for reading my poem that Aviya so graciously posted. When one's words move others so deeply, it is a gift, a connection of kindred spirits across time.
So interesting--I was surprised by the "sweat" at the very end. But I have heard these stories before...so maybe that's the non-surprise, the always knowing. Esp true now.
The poem is very well crafted, I guess that's why the last line did not surprise me. Also, you warned the reader about that last line, and the context helped too.
I just finished reading your essay, excerpted from The Grammar of God (I must read the whole book now!). I kept three sentences with me:
I think of her whenever I see fishnet stockings, and I wonder if to be a Nazi is sexy again.
“What a pleasure to receive water from a granddaughter!”
This is not the Galilee, where Isaiah can echo freely off the hills. This is a place that tried to empty us.
Sabine -- thank you for reading my poem that Aviya posted. I feel my Omama so close to me these days....helping me to stay close to my tribe. You. All those who respond to the word with heart. Blessings.
Despondently moving
I felt the same after reading this poem.
Chilling poem indeed. And beautiful essay, roomie! I will reread the Grammar of God when I get home. Strangely, I am reading this in Amsterdam at the apartment we have rented across from the Jewish Historical Museum and the Holocaust monument of names. Sending love.
Wow, I can't believe you are in Amsterdam! I am so moved to know this essay is reaching you there!! Sending you love across the miles.....
I heeded your advice and also read the poem slowly. The last line lingers in my brain, in my soul, haunting and speaking to me of the horrors of the past, the dark warnings of the present, and the dangers of the not-so-distant future. I shivered when I read that line.
What a beautiful comment, Audrey! I agree on that last line. I found myself thinking about it and thinking about it--the immediacy of it. I could touch it.
Thank you, Audrey, for reading my poem that Aviya so graciously posted. When one's words move others so deeply, it is a gift, a connection of kindred spirits across time.
It was my great honor, Lisa.
I read the poem very slowly. The ending did not surprise me. It's a poem full of love and dread. Very powerful. Thank you Aviya.
So interesting--I was surprised by the "sweat" at the very end. But I have heard these stories before...so maybe that's the non-surprise, the always knowing. Esp true now.
The poem is very well crafted, I guess that's why the last line did not surprise me. Also, you warned the reader about that last line, and the context helped too.
I just finished reading your essay, excerpted from The Grammar of God (I must read the whole book now!). I kept three sentences with me:
I think of her whenever I see fishnet stockings, and I wonder if to be a Nazi is sexy again.
“What a pleasure to receive water from a granddaughter!”
This is not the Galilee, where Isaiah can echo freely off the hills. This is a place that tried to empty us.
-- Thank you Aviya.
Merci, Sabine!
Sabine -- thank you for reading my poem that Aviya posted. I feel my Omama so close to me these days....helping me to stay close to my tribe. You. All those who respond to the word with heart. Blessings.
Thank you Sabine. Love and dread. It's how I often feel every day, full of love and dread at the continued historical travesty. Blessings to you.
I can not seem to find an appropriate response, but, Thank you comes to mind. A beautiful piece, indeed.
Thank you so much, Laurie. This means a lot to me!