The Gift Was Given To Me
THE TGIFT WAS GIVEN TO ME
The Gift was given to me
and new worlds within
could be found and made
again and again-
If I wanted the Stars in my words
They would play their Light for me-
If I wanted Darkness
Heavens and Hells have their loss in long songs-
I knew I could write and write
many imaginary and many real things-
But what did it all mean?
I was only one more soul
in a universe where God
has given many many words
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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How Can I Knowing Myself Inside
How can I
Knowing myself inside
Knowing my lust and envy and fear and distrust
Knowing my weakneses,
How can I expect of G-d
To keep alive forever
The problematic being I am?
I idealize those I love
And do not try to know them
As I know myself –
They too being human
Are also not perfectly worthy
They too being human
Know sin within themselves-
And yet I try
I pray
I would not abandon those I love-
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Did Not Need Or Want To Be Anyone But Myself
I DID NOT NEED OR WANT TO BE ANYONE BUT MYSELF
I did not need or want to be anyone but myself-
But was my self a self worth being?
I did not want to be Wallace Stevens
I did not want to be Wordsworth
I did not want to be Hopkins or Dickinson or Blake or Yeats-
They were all who they were
And a blessing to many-
I just want to be who I am
But am I a self worth being?
Or am I just a person
Whose name is namelessness?
I suppose I can live with my own namelessness
And my not being one of those with a real name-
I suppose I can live with being only who I am
However unworthy that is
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Need To Come Closer To God
I need to come closer to God
I need God more
I need God’s help more
I do not know why
But I want to serve God more
Is it because I feel not alright within myself and my family
And must atone for something?
Or because the world seems more insecure?
Or because Israel is more threatened and in greater danger?
Or because it is now the month of Elul and this is the traditional time for Repentance?
I don’t know
I feel I need God more
To pray more intensely is only one part of it
It is beyond this
I cannot understand
I need God more
And as I write this
I am praying that by writing this small poem
I am in some small way serving God
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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On The Edge Of My Old Age
ON THE EDGE OF MY OLD AGE
On the edge of my old age
A strange calm comes to me
I have done what I have done
Whatever it be.
On the edge of my old age
Anger is my soul
I have not climbed the mountain
And now I’m far too old.
On the edge of my old age
I still wait to see
What will become
Of all I dreamed.
On the edge of my old age
Joy in my life
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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An Old Man Should By This Time
AN OLD MAN SHOULD BY THIS TIME
KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIS DAYS
An old man should by this time
Know what to do with his days-
But each day for me is a struggle and a question-
I hesitate and begin slowly
I try to know how to work
I fumble
A little here and a little there
And I sort of find my way-
But rare are the days that I work as a I should-
I am more easily distracted now
Though I never was a champion of long- time concentration
A little here a little there
Until I sometimes find the rhythm-
But always the question the doubt
The wonder whether I am doing right
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Night Will Soon Be Lost
THE NIGHT WILL SOON BE LOST
The night will soon be lost
Another night of so many already gone
Who knows how many left?
I have seen far more nights
Than I will ever see again
Mostly it’s done
I have some nights left
But not so many
That I should waste it wholly
On frivolity
I’ll try now
To write a poem down
So this night
Will not have been wholly in vain
But who knows
Vanity of vanity of vanity
Perhaps for all nights and all poems- vanity
I am writing this poem down nonetheless
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Rain Has Come In Strength At Last
THE RAIN HAS COME IN STRENGTH AT LAST
The rain has come in strength at last
It has brought with it
Darkness and cold.
Dare I go outside?
Inside I am warm
The light blesses and heats me
It is all so good and safe and protected.
I soon will go outside
The rain will drench me
I will shake with cold
I will try to escape
The floods at the corners
I will rush to where I go.
Will there be a minyan?
Does it make sense
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Longing Is The Heart Of The Poem
THE LONGING IS THE HEART OF THE POEM
The longing is the heart of the poem
The longing for so much
Which will never be again-
The longing to be young again
To love again
In a true and deep way-
The longing for all the times and people
Who are not
And never will be again-
The longing which tells me again and again
How much we lose in merely living
How deep and rich life is
In time and ways and people
Beyond our ever remembering and recollecting fully-
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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Each Poet Is A Solitary Voice Sounding His Own Alone Through The Universe
EACH POET IS A SOLITARY VOICE SOUNDING HIS ALONE THROUGH THE UNIVERSE
Each poet is a solitary voice sounding his own alone through the universe
Each one writes what only he or she can
No one is the other and all for anyone else
We come into the world alone
And we die alone
And we are poets – alone
Yet what we dream alone
Is nonetheless what no alone can ever give
A kind of love and recognition
An affirmation of who we are
A blessedness
That may once have been had in our mother's love
But which in our long slow years
Can never fully come again.
I loved a woman once
And she seemed to love me
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poem by Shalom Freedman
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