Not corresponding with Topics of the Month (C) November 2013 Miles Whinfrey
Destruction of Beth Hamedrash
and my own loss
I was solemn and resolved when I came back from the
markets down Pershore Road,
Past the junction to the longer of the two ways
home,
Look to my right to see the Beth Hamedrash of the
second city,
Roadside here as I had know it to be all my grown life,
Destruction of the Temple,
What was in it that was inside was now seen out
and walls stood in singular isolation at the scene,
Expecting no preservation like the Kobel on the Temple Mount,
For a score and five slim years I had grown to this,
Moderacy, tolerance, confidence,
Looking back,
It seems now that then the prospect seemed portentous and
sweet,
When my life was and is usually wholly intact,
But now I had a wailing wall for my circumstance-
for a day, week or maybe more,
Although still not two thousand years stirring up reverent veneration,
or start of passion or tradition,
What was my religion, sense of right or unconscionable wrong
here- no ancient Republican mandate, Pogrom or still much worse,
But passage of a little creatures rich life, bitter sweet times,
After hour of lamentations sight and bigger woe I am
at the high street step off point,
The brink of an act of mercy,
Wanting there to be only good memories,
Care is given in equal share to the living,
Those with well and not so well charges see service,
But faces take on more compassion, it is soon my
time in the spotlight,
No-one likes what needs to be done, but it’s the right thing,
Twenty minutes and it’s done, but wait to give details and pay,
I now want to put my prayer in my ad hoc great wall-
but there are no cracks,
It is precast and likely will only stand for a week,
God will not hear what’s said,
I offer my thanks, compliment and warm words instead of
a prayer and I leave in silence,
Back home share good company but we are affected.