By Mendel Horowitz –
My grandparents had their silence,
Noah had his ark.
My neighbors have their refuge
On the second floor.
With blast doors,
First aid kits and Psalms,
Rechargeable batteries, water,
And emergency lights.
I have mostly these words
On this paper,
And explosive music
In my head.
Some tempos pulsate
More soundly;
Other beats echo
What thumps inside.
When the sirens wail,
I press “play,” and
Move arrhythmically
Toward something less still.
I am my grandparents,
Noah, and my neighbors.
Disquieted, flooded, and ready,
I cautiously — reluctantly — descend.
Mendel Horowitz is a practicing psychotherapist in Jerusalem
