Here are All the Idols

by Yaacov Dovid Shulman

Here are all the idols,
Bustling about,
Jostling each other on the way to the synagogue,
Speeding along in their little idol cars to idol destinations.
And death oozes out from all of the crevices,
From all of the spaces between bricks,
From between teeth.
But in the gaze between our eyes there is no space,
Nor in the heart that is filled with effortless light,
Nor in the joy that waters the morning grass,
Nor in the colors of the street beneath the moon that hangs like a silver fruit.