Modern Times

the world is a-changing
and we're losing touch
our heads are connected
but not our hearts

the universe grows smaller
minute by minute
but what is happening
to the humans in it

we dare not wait
lest we lose the deal
there's no time to think
let alone feel

our words are brief
no pause or stop
in this high-tech life
grammar is forgot

the cantata called "love"
lingers too long
we want results
not a complex song

instead we're enslaved
by our own inspiration
compelled to construct
tomorrow's PlayStation

our spouses, our children
no longer recognize
the image of the person
they used to idolize

so fleeting, so fragile
the moment's attraction
we cannot freeze-frame
such human interaction

like parent, like child
we'll reap what we sow
what we neglect today
we'll confront tomorrow

Mother, Waiting for Dawn

It is so difficult, I don't know if I can do it
It is so easy, I wonder why I can't
Getting up in the morning used to be a treat
Now it's a chore.

When did it change? you ask.
As the family and responsibilities grew
the days became shorter
and the time flew.

Now I ask, how will I fit in
the life I want to lead?
How will I balance
obligations with my need?

I used to have legs
to run and explore
now they are bound
by obligations galore

How long will the night last
until I can be free?
What will enable
the sun rise for me?

One by One

They took us, one by one, young and old.

As the child of a holocaust survivor these images never truly leave me. The dash for survival, the visceral fear, the confrontation with the monster are embedded in my genes. At times of stress the nightmare feels real.

One by one, that's how it feels. The acute knowing that I'm next, the not knowing what's next, the tension of the moment between life and death.

It takes time to emerge from the depths of hell. I do so by means of self-care and caring for others. The antidote to cruelty is love.

One by one.

They destroyed the membranes but could not eviscerate the soul. They toppled the structure but could not excavate the foundation.

We build again.

One by one.

The Jacket

He grew up in Trinidad. When he was young, his parents had a small restaurant. He used to help out in the store and instead of an allowance he was permitted to keep his tips. Like all boys he was tempted to spend it all. But he learned something important from an uncle whom he admired: Whenever you get a large "bill," as he called it, put some aside for the future.

He kept putting aside money until he had amassed quite a bit. And there the story begins.

His older sister wanted to open up her own place. She turned to him and asked him for a loan. He hesitated but gave his entire savings to her.

Years later he married and moved to the States. He worked hard as an auto mechanic and continued to follow his uncle's advice. Eventually he was able to think of buying his own place. He found an appropriate site and put together all the money he had. But he was $20,000 short. Where would he get the money?

He didn't know if she could, but he asked his sister anyway. Would she give him 20 thousand dollars? She said she'd go to the bank the next day and he should come by to pick it up. He was thrilled!

He bought the place and worked hard to make a go of it. He continued to follow his uncle's dictum, this time in a concrete way.

He took an old jacket, hung it discreetly in a back room and every time he had a big "bill" he stuffed some money in a pocket. He did this for years until all of the jacket's pockets were stuffed with cash.

One day he took his jacket over to this sister. "Take it," he said. "I don't know how much money is in there, whether it's enough or not, but it's all yours." He never counted what was in the jacket and his sister didn't tell him.

Several years later he asked her one question: "Was it enough?" She replied, "It was more than enough. Thank you."

To this day, he doesn't know the total. He doesn't need to. He met his goal.