Sighs

Sighing, my great-grandmother would have turned to her loaf
And pulled off a proper measure of kneaded dough, 
Reciting .....commanded us to separate the hallah...
Heaved the chunk, not too much, into the flames,
When her neighbor ran into the kitchen breathless
To report the news just now arrived that in some village
Distant not too far they killed some Jews.

Master of the Universe, we beg you again, please
Dear God, Tatele, please, hold off the brigands, 
Protect us, keep safe my husband as he labors and
My boys at cheder and my girls, my sweet precious babies, 
As they sweep the house and run their errands.
Keep the goyim away, return us forgive us bring us back
From our exile to our land and turn away the Angel of Death. 

My great-grandmother would whisper prayers her mother
Whispered with her in the dark hours of crouched hidings
When enemies unrestrained strolled their little village streets;
Master of all Creation, dear God, Tatele, why why can’t you
End our exile? Have we not endured with love your service
To repaid our ancestors sins?  Tatele, Tatele, I plead
Let this time pass with no harm, amen, amen.

Written some time back, but my reflection on what has happened now, and what happened back then. May He Who Creates fullness of being (shalom) in the heavens so create on the earth.