This Temple Speaks for Me

I cannot speak from inside this temple.

Broken bodies stumble across the floor as sunlight beats against the windows, demanding the right to shine in this desecrated space.

Pages, soaked in the bloodred color that paints my history, rustle in the winds of hatred blowing through these trembling walls.

The temple heaves in uncontainable sorrow.

I cannot speak as the vigil gathers outside, swarming the streets with wretched grief.

Candles flicker in shaking hands. Eyes well with loss and disbelief. This is not where we were meant to gather together and remember.

I cannot speak as the graves are dug. The soil of a foreign land swallowing up vessels punctured by bullets that drained the lives held within.

I cannot speak as the world spins again and the sun knocks against my darkened heart.

I cannot speak because my tongue is bound by words too shallow to hold the depth of pain that rises from my roots and rips my carefully constructed identity down to the naked truth of who I am and who I will always be.

I cannot speak as a Jew, alone in this crowd of comforting rhetoric that leaves me feeling wrung out and dried.

I am persecuted and hated. I am thrown to the lions and left to die. I am misunderstood, mislabeled and misbelieved. I am held as a beacon and obfuscated in contempt. I am riddled with gunshots, stabbed with steel terror and run over with crushing rage.

I cannot speak from inside this temple.

This temple speaks for me.



One thought on “This Temple Speaks for Me

  1. As a fellow writer, I believe it is best to keep that misunderstood fire burning. Instead of feeling sympathy for you, I will tell you it is righteous to feel some rage. Your Jewish culture, like that of the Native Americans, has been steamrolled and persecuted for centuries. After a while, you get tired of hearing about God’s will. If it is God’s will to allow murder and mindless acts of terror, than it is well within my right to express some wrath, to stop forgiving these cowardly phantoms who kill… I am proud of you Bracha. You hold on tight to this cold reality. Most people cannot express in words what you have shared. Perhaps one day you will feel some sunlight shining on your temple again. Blessings to your family…


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