Sauci Bosner

Letter to Al Tirah/Fear Not

‘Once upon a time, many stories  ago, neighbors used to pass by on the streets and memories of  our hearts.
They  greeted each other with Good morning, Boker or, shalom aleichem, salaam alekum, Kif halek, goedemorgen.

Mailmen were excited for you when a letter came from far away places.
Kids saved stamps to broaden their horizons and impress the neighbors.
Walls were built of stone and green trimmed hedges.
Doors were left open.
Just in case, there was always someone in the neighborhood to let you in.
Girls and boys played catch outside.
They hopped skipped and jumped their way to the finish.

Mothers always cooked too much.
You never know who might drop by with some gossip or news.
Nothing was wasted.
Nothing was thrown away.
Not even people.

Fear creeps in slowly, occupying cracked walls.
Doors shut down. Keys get thrown away.
Dreams slip through real and cyber space.
Mothers’ hearts are broken once again.
Sweets and savories lull us into sleepless awakening.
Living leaves some wasted while others enjoy the rush.
Cement walls and Ikea fences keep us on our tippy toes
while we could be sharing songs of freedoms.

Good Shabbas.  Good Yom Tov. Ramadan Kareem.