Written After a Simchat Torah Celebration


by Lucy Lincoln | January 30, 2011

Light shines from

                a thousand prisms,

                                hung on golden filigree,

                above the hall below,

where sheltered men

                wear sheltering talitot

                                and stand and sit and

                                chant a thousand

                shadowed words,

                                which had once been

                                                written bold and in the light.


Where are the Deborahs to lead the fight?

Where your Huldahs to interpret sacred scrolls aright?



                behind heavenly bars above,

                                made lovely with gilt

                                                and hammered doves,

                so no one can make claim,

                                “They were not taken care of.”


How sad the songs that

                sing the praises of Israel

                                in just one octave.