God’s Memory
There were things she could not, would not, tell,
Carried so long in silence they had become one with her,
Hidden, it seems, in her very bones.
She feared that; that when life left,
Men would come to her grave, and kneeling down
Put ear to ground and her bones would betray her.
I went to where she lay one summer afternoon.
And though I listened hard, I heard nothing,
Save the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.
Surely, when God forgives, He forgets.
And nothing He forgets can be remembered.
Not by anyone. Not by anything. Not even by bones.
And that, that is His great mercy.
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Gershon Ben-Avraham lives with his wife, family dog, and various children in Merion Station Pennsylvania.
So proud of my brother and his poetry, love his poems as much as I love him.<3
Wow! very nice, Gershon! 😀