Category Archives: Fall

Autumn’s travail

Standard

By Dana Janine Diamond 

Hunkering down
it will be a long haul
the elections are nearly upon us
though it’s still warm
almost oppressive
when we take note
fall comes slowly
in the south
leaves just beginning
to blow away
songs are saving us
though there’s a chance 
they might not
get written anymore
for the fate
of the world is upon us
the sadness takes
up all the space
until the show begins
and the comedians and singers
take the stage
if only they knew
the lives they saved
I’m leaving a trail
in the forest
with just the deer
and birds for solace
where will we go
homeless souls
when winter comes

COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Advertisements

Cart Wheels

Standard


By Dana Janine Diamond

We had a peaceful day
there won’t be many
this one nearly wasn’t
but it’s still mid-evening
my job now
is to report from the inside

the way we got here
the echo of…
this is my happiness
distilled to the most
benign expectations

Journey, journeying
galloping, memories
in pointillist paintings
true moments
like night stars
we can’t see them all
but we look up
and receive the impression

It turns out
humans mated with neanderthals
not sure who
got the better deal
if it was love, if God
ever really loved
us
he or she has not yet
proven their point

are we like chimps
or chumps
in the zoo
bewildering
to those on the outside

Job should have fulfilled
the prophecy
and cursed you
maybe he could have
spared us the task

We are holding the water
down
traveling, traveling
I need all the stars
turning and twirling
to deepen dusk

 

COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

To the fields we go

Standard

by Dana Janine Diamond

Summer has ended
the cool air lasts longer
on my morning rambles
the sun feels calm and pleasurable
even without the cover of shade
or thick foliage
I’m attuned
to the wind’s whisper
singing her inspiration
mildly mesmerized by
the yellow and white wildflowers
reaching upward,
the big sky and open space
are the keepers
of my perspective
for years I’ve waved
to the King in the fields
listened to the stories
hummed the melodies
so quietly
cried and shouted
to the tall weeds
in my heart
beseeched the nearby King
for Mercy
and now that we have
a new beginning
it occurs that perhaps
the metaphor is turning
the Queen is in the fields
beckoning, twirling
she’s been dancing since Tu B’Av
She’s calling for us to rise up
to Elul, to know our worth
this year, to measure ourselves
in love
we can sound new notes
the world has been waiting for
turn tradition on its ear
the female sheep, the lovely ewe
has horns
the best are called Jacob’s sheep
(of course)
though ewe in Hebrew really is
Rachel
so we start with naming ourselves
we begin our own song
understanding that ewe
really means journey

 

COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

An End of Summer Approaches

Standard

          By Dana Janine Diamond 

In the south
we start to wind down
in early August
school begins and fall
is just a feather away
tickling our senses
we sort through long
sleeve shirts soon
to be worn
the storms
gasp their heave ho
thunder complains
about what we down here
have wrought

We’ve planted some
seeds this summer
neglected others
come ’round the gatekeepers
for the blossoms
they arch this way
and that
alert for the winds
in search
of profound
change
shimmering in streams,
wells, oh wells,
the air is redolent
hope is rich and heavy
just above reach
branches brushed aside
by the quick family
of deer on the run
some mornings
we’ve really looked
at each other
as if we understood
what the other is
going through
I sigh
my dog sighs
she is restless
pacing, pacing
we all dance to
God’s symphony

Some of you want more
exotic vacation pictures
some of you want more
better politics
some of you want more
charity and peace
on earth
it’s a hot season
and poetry
isn’t plucked quite
so easily
this pounding rain
it’s so loud and
attention-seeking
it’s shaking the foundation
of the house
we’ve loved
the shelter
we never took
for granted
not even for one
day

We will miss
berry season
it went so quick
strawberries, blueberries,
raspberries, gooseberries,
faithful treasures
we hunted their scent
as if it was an aphrodisiac
for love of God’s bounty
these small, plump moments
understated laughter
the quiet of a content
home, a multitude
of green leaves on trees
peering through
our windows
overwhelmed with love
light and hot pink
peonies sidling up
to white hydrangeas
a glimmer of iridescent light
upon the tenebrous pond
a sweep of notes
climbing, climbing
to a crescendo

Every morning
the rooster across
the way
made sure
we knew
we were alive
we saw the sun
hovering in the sky
waiting, as each day
flew summer
away from us
postcards in the distance
soon pears
and apples
will fall
beside red barns
and white stars
all that we know
for certain
is we will be writing.

COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Ready to Fall

Standard

         by Dana Janine Diamond  

imgres

One morning, I walk out my door

find the air cooler

than it was the day before,

a light, minty leaf dances

toward me, immediately

the promise of pumpkins,                                      10966526-fall-harvest-festival-decorative-vegetables-with-festive-gourds-and-colorful-squashes-with-assorted-

creamy butternut squash and sturdy gourds,

line up on the farmer’s table,

ready to be taken home,

hoping to be picked.

There was a time

I would follow this adventure,

but now I pause imperceptibly,

go about my day.

Gather the harvest

bushels of apples

Delicious, Golden, Granny Smith,    cider

sweet, sour, sliced, bitten

check for bugs or worms,

polish to a fine shine,

until we’re tucked in again

for the night

the epic cover

protecting us from a baking sun,

that was once summer.

Soon we will hear

the crunch under our feet

a sky decorated and punctuated

with a lover’s hand                                                   images

amber, maple-shaped, fiery red,

speckled light brown on pale, faded yellow,

cheerful, everlasting smile,

green becomes sage,

seemingly, suddenly,

bright orange turns to rust.

Get ready to cook,                                              imgres

your grandmother’s recipe,

or one from a book you read long ago,

but no one knows your secret.

It could be coriander seed, or cumin,

or just more thyme, and the realization

that an entrée can be served without anything hidden.

Begin again.

It seems, when asked,

why did a woman veer off her path?

(when the whole world knows

we know the directions)

The answer is loneliness.

alltishabbychic

Now that is the real curse,

is it not?

Busyness can play the charmer,

contentment and even occasional happiness

can snake its way through our lives,                          imgres

productivity and grocery shopping

can purchase complacency

for a time,

until stock has its turn

at being taken,

rather than stirred briskly.

imagesI am the esrog,

I am the Lulav, too.

Complex, complicated and mystical,

shaken and held

for very short bursts.

You bring me forth

maybe give me a kiss,

inhale my deep, provocative,

exotic scent,

caress with your eyes,

select a firm grip,                                      lulav&etrog

as if to never let me go,

as if I am so close to your heart

that a whisper is all that is needed

to beckon me nearer,

and I am there, inside you,

or did I have that turned around?

For now, seemingly suddenly,                  $(KGrHqF,!oUFDCbMNoueBQ9Zc9S5mg~~60_35

I am being sent

to all ends

of the earth.

In my travels,

I have seen your suffering,

felt your joy,

absorbed your pain,

known your love,

I am sitting in this hut

alone, ‘til finally

even the walls

around me are torn down.

collapsed-sukkah

I might survive

as a house plant

(for a time)

I might even find myself

pricked with cinnamon sticks             ETROG_HAVDALAH_NEW_WP

and retrieved from behind

the glass case,

or the drawer where you’ve stored me

to add a certain sweetness

as the candlelight holds back the

darkness,

and a family embarks on their poignant week.

Where to begin,

as I bring my offering,

I seek to understand

and I experience an existential rejection            09

with every wrong occurrence,

a broken canister, wasted food,

my child’s tears, missed opportunities

to pray, with domestic chaos

swirling around me,

a storm of anti-Semitism

raging in the streets,

I still see the colors

raining down.

why20leaves20change20color

I am lying on a bed

of drying up leaves,                                 images

caked somewhat in mud,

You’ve got me right where

You want me

readying myself

to stand up

and get clean.

And as I begin

the washing up

that inevitably follows every

holiday or excursion,

I take soap to dish,

scrub in a circular motion,              3890318312_59e4dd8729

rinsing and inspecting,

feeling the calm sense

of satisfaction return

as lemony scents

fill the air above

the kitchen sink,

and while my hands are moving,

moving, ever restless,

my mind soars

with possibilities, decisions, new ideas.

etrog

Esrog by Michoel Muchnik

Esrog by Michoel Muchnik

COPYRIGHT 2009 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Unspoken

Standard

          by Dana Janine Diamond 

In our time

of rejoicing

I sit alone

waiting in the sukkah

as light touches darkness

I have no guests

they have not come

for I have no husband to entertain them.

At this feast

I partake in luxury

every spice lingering

on my tongue

not wishing to be left

alone,

alas,

the taste is wasted, waiting

to amass

the wine and grain

fallen on the wayside,

for I have no husband to tend to,

ask,

“how does this taste to you?”

I sit alone

as still as possible

strive to sense

an embrace

as distant as the stars

glimmering above the

willows of the brook,

I rest in this sukkah,

hoping you took,

the long but short way,

that you are flying even now

in a carriage of peasant descent

through the enceinte woods

led by fearless one-toed horses

the Baal Shem Tov

whispered, their quivering ears alert

gracefully persuaded to traverse

all space and time,

you arrive at last,

satchels of endless stories in tow.

So who will come

while I sojourn,

who dares to visit

the bleak, solitary hut?

The angels are floating on myrtle,

murmuring inpenetrable names,

like husks of corn,

growing side by side,

the men, they have abandoned me,

as maise to a maze

by death or wish

they pass me by,

no glass raised

or broken.

Sarah, Miriam, Devorah,

Chana, Huldah, Avigail,

and Queen Esther,

will you be my ushpizot?

Will you divine the dream for me?

I will serve as your retinue,

awaiting to begin anew.

We are bound together

like the scent of lemons

to a sweet verbena tree,

yearning to be rooted,

to withstand the coming wind,

I lift my hands to draw

circles of blessings

in to my body

feel no heat,

nor coolness of air,

barely hear

the night’s symphony song,

for I have no husband to sing to.

COPYRIGHT 2011 Dana Janine Diamond  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com