Sunday Poem

I Try To Wake You In The Dark

I try to wake You in the dark.
From Mecca or Jerusalem.
I try to wake You in the dark.

But You've been sleeping alone on dark stones.
Who knows for how long. In Mecca
or perhaps Jerusalem. Some say
Or much longer.

But stubborn me, I still try.
I don’t give up. I'm still trying,
giving it my all, in the dark,
to wake You up.

From Mecca or Medina.
Jerusalem or Hebron.

Can You hear my voice
in the dark? To the right, down
there, in the tunnel?

Can You see me?
A tender youth, in the dusk
of madness?

Because all through the night
I have been throwing words at You,
expecting You.
In vain.

From Mecca or Medina.
Jerusalem or Hebron.

Perhaps some of the words hurt Your feelings?
Forgive me. I am only trying.
Perhaps millennia or more have passed.
In the dark. To wake You up.
With great tenderness.

from Jerusalem,


from Mecca.

Because if You awaken,

spontaneously, with a smile,
as my heart predicted,
You will say

Where art thou?

by Admiel Kosman
from Alternative Prayerbook
publisher: Hakibbutz Hameuchad,
Tel Aviv © 2007
translation by Lisa Katz and Shlomit Naor
© 2010