The ceiling has fallen,
And the once grand arches have lost their splendor.
Where people once sat have been removed,
And chandeliers that lit pious faces lie broken on the floor.
Left to decay like a rotten fruit
No longer do the living offer their prayers here,
Share each other’s smiles,
Or console those surrounded by grief.
Yet the sweetness of piety,
The remembrance of vibrant design,
The comforting chant of famliar tunes
Still reside in this sacred space.
Voices of the past rising in devotion
Still whisper in the air,
Sentinels to what once was
But will not be again.
We, the living, refuse to forget and abandon
Absorbing the memories of those who are gone;
Nurturing in our souls the continued presence of what once was,
So the past never dies.
The pleas of those gone still reside with Gd
Entwined with the prayers of those still here
Weaving a tapestry outside time and space
Ensuring an eternity here and now.
* Dar Bishi Synangogue, Triploi, Libya
c. 2020
Photo credit: Dar Bishi synagogue in the Libyan capital on September 28, 2011. (Photo/JTA-Joseph Eid-AFP-Getty Images). Source.
