Kaddish for Fukushima

Sing a Kaddish

let it rise and swirl...

over the blue grass

and the apples,

the meadows and the fields

Overhead, whirling drops

of Hassid rain

and water everywhere

salt pouring into wounds

oceans severed

and sunless seas:

it is time to sing the

Kaddish

for this unborn world...

I called this home once;

a western wind blew through

the windows of a wooden house

a small fire lit

and warmth inside;

sun outdoors when the day

was high

and green, green fields

ever sprawling trees

and ever crisp

the moonlit air...

And now? Sing the Kaddish

let it rise and swirl

amidst the smoke of battle;

endless repetition

and flight, tears –

and laughter, too!

In this, the field in which

I died.