For the Occasion

Something Begins

And so it was that after two years of study and a month of waiting, as of 10 AM EST today, on the Upper West Side, I became in Halakha what I have always been in spirit: a Jew. Baruch HaShem. Am Yisrael Chai.

Where You Go, I Will Go

Where you go, I will go—and even if
That should be to the fires of Gehinnom,
Where saltpeter and sulfur and the whiff
Of Roman incense stings the nostrils—some
Intrepid souls with necks God made too stiff
To break upon the gallows, and the sum
Of countless generations, lead the way,
Though pipes and drums lead other men astray.

But what are heathen melodies unheard—
The sad and trifling ecstasies of men—
Against the fire of that Living Word
That blots out death in consolation? In
The Darkness of Infinity, He stirred
My soul to seek out refuge from its sin,
And like Ruth, gleaning sorrow in the corn,
Where you go, I will go—and won't be torn.

In exile, or in homecoming, your joy
Shall be my joy, your tragedy my loss,
For we are one whom nothing can destroy,
The gold that God has sifted from the dross
Of countless hardships, martyrdoms, the few
Who stand unbroken—and though we must pass
Like faded flowers, dust and ashes, die,
Though flesh decays, we say Am Yisrael chai.

With blood and water, bind me to this fate
And this reversion to my natural home.
Where you lodge, I will lodge, and though they hate,
From Spain to Tsiyyon, with you, I will roam
L'dor va'dor. For if I hesitate
To serve my kin in all things, let the foam
That drowned Mitzrayim overtake me till
I die, or my right hand forget his skill.