Only the Sea Knows

A poem for my Jewish community

No wonder our happiest endings are open-ended,
Grey, solemn, alchemical miracles.
Getting to start over somewhere new—what a blessing!
Being alive, still—let’s drink to it!
With our hands pressed to our eyes,
The Friday flame warms every forgotten village.
With our feet in the water, we touch every ocean our dreams have touched,
Lifting the veil on whispered hopes heard solely by the roaring waves.
Only the sea knows how we wove our tormented memory into a blanket of timeless Love,
Shielding one another from the chill of an endless night.