The Bombs Falling Again

The bombs are falling again;
The troops are moving, each hunting
The other. Each hopes to catch the
Other unawares, and finish which
Ever job they have been assigned.

We sitting on the sidelines waiting
Hoping for our guys to dispatch
Their guys. Sounds like a video
Game.  It isn’t. Too much human
Cost. I mourn every innocent
Death, every unnecessary

Death.  But death tracks us now.
Not me, so far away.  But us. 
The malach ha’mavet, the
Death angel, our unswerving
Companion, we Jews have a 
Particular relation, no better

No worse than anyone else, 
But one peculiar and particular. 
This angel has been traveling
Along with us, from place to 
Place a long time. 

And now, finally, we are back
Home, and we were hoping
The malach ha’mavet might
Rewrite the deal and we’d have
An ordinary relationship. He’d 

Come in a more common, 
Ordinary manner, with perhaps
A more predictable frequency. 
Such is not the case.  And 
Blood leaks. And innocents

Cry.  And the violence will
Only end when that angel’s
Wings finally come to a
Rest. 

Soon, please, let The Wings
Shelter us in peace, shalom,
A fullness-in-being.