HILDE

Just the other side of that pillar,
Where you can't see him, God
Has settled himself comfortably.
He is telling a story about Raven
To the servant girl Hilde. Raven
And Hilde are both tricksters;
If they ever meet they might create
A much cleverer breed of men
With a few glossy black feathers
Placed discretely around their bodies
But God is not certain such men
Would be an improvement over those
Who presently mismanage the world.
While He thinks it over, Hilde
Waits in a picture by Saanredam
Of the great church in Haarlem.
When God grows weary of us
He sits in its clear-lighted aisles
Chatting with Hilde or another
Of those the crook-backed painter
Keeps stored for Him there.

PETITION

God leans His back against a pillar
And tells the servant girl a story
There’s a giant in it and so giants
Wake up to find they exist again
Quickly, they send a delegation
To plead with God to make them wise;
They grow so tired of being oafs
Easily fooled by tailors and farmboys
Tripping over their feet or falling
To their deaths from cut beanstalks.
Would it be too much to ask
For just a bit of grace this time?

LOSING GRAVITY

My ancestor from Karlin
Wasn't mad so it must be
He was brave, not caring
When gravity, in one of her moods,
Released her claim on him
So, in the middle of prayer,
He started towards the ceiling.
Witnesses report he continued
Without losing a syllable.
Services over, the congregation
Watched him treading air
Until he washed against a pillar
And climbed down to join them.
The chazan handed him rocks
(Rocks? What were rocks doing
In a synagogue? Praying, I guess
Or perhaps dozing. Hard to tell.)
Which he put in his coat's pockets
So he could make it back home
Even if a vagrant wind thought
Wouldn't it be rare fun
To blow Reb Aaron to China?