March 2018
I live in England where I write history for a living and poetry for the love of it. Although I have been a member of the V-V groups on Facebook for a while, this the first time my work has appeared in the journal. I am happy to be here.
NOTE: I’d been enjoying Firestone’s artwork for a while, and when I said I would like to think about writing a reply to his painting of ALEF (the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet) he encouraged me to write an off-the-cuff response of just a few words, saying how much he likes to get different interpretations. I never did that because I wanted to write something longer. Then, after seeing his image of the second Hebrew letter, BET, I wrote a single sentence. With a good reaction from Robbi Nester, and another from Firestone, I found I could expand that, and it took the shape of a poem. I did the same with the third letter, GIMEL, and then went back to write a whole poem about ALEF — a letter without sound. I'm neither Jewish nor have I had any previous experience with the Hebrew alphabet, but I found that with Firestone’s personal painting mythology some understanding of the letters’ symbolism opened my creative flow.
ALEF, BET, GIMEL
The First Three Letters of the Hebrew Alphabet
based on the paintings by Firestone Feinberg
ALEF
The 1st letter. It is silent.
The 1st letter. It is silent.
Already, before a snake is made,
before a human is born,
soundless ALEF is central: the silent link
between the hidden and the revealed
as the world is thought into being.
Light, the first divine word,
pours from Brother Sun above, cradled
by ALEF. Below, a homunculus,
an unfinished idea for a person, is straddled
by protective ALEF. In this undecided world,
a reindeer hovers in the air; a fish walking
on the ground is tempted to nibble
ALEF’s alluring foot; a giant seahorse
anchors itself, wraps its tail around
ALEF’s firmly grounded ankle.
It’s a simple world, not fully formed, uncertain and
so far unadorned, where a bird is the first
to sense its space, to find its proper place
in the heavens: Brother Sun’s near neighbour,
yet never straying far from silent central ALEF.
But – there will be complications.
BET
The 2nd letter. [B]
The 2nd letter. [B]
My friend the snake swims calmly,
serene beside the wavelets,
as a fish leaps high above them
in rejoicing, or in fear.
Brother Sun beams down benign and
Sister Moon awaits her turn, at rest.
Central to the spectacle, the watchers watch,
their neutral eyes floating, observing without judgement.
BET is the key, its duality linking
sky and earth, high and low: a bird perches on top,
and below, a reindeer wanders
on leaves of grass, the tree, the lawn.
BET is the reminder too that
as with everything, the Torah has two parts,
the written and the oral;
and there is tension in the house.
The homunculus is in the attic,
relegated, or in retreat and hiding
while the woman turns her back
and glares away from the man.
He seems unsure of what he might have done.
Waiting at the door, the seahorse
ignores or cannot see the smoke
erupting from the chimney.
What words have been spoken, or left unsaid?
BET is also a reminder that peace will return,
perhaps with Sister Moon, or when
my friend the snake has swum away.
GIMEL
The 3rd letter. [G]
The 3rd letter. [G]
Time to give — time for the rich
to run after the poor and give
in the name of caring,
in the loving name of charity. Time to play —
for the homunculus to ride the reindeer bareback,
for the fish to fly above the bird,
for the bird to swim beneath the fish,
for the spiral stars to leap and shine.
Plump and pacific, the seahorse surveys
the mending made since Bet was on the scene
with its divisions, balances and pairs.
Now a tall light shines between the people,
him hopeful and talking, her still wary,
yet facing one another again.
All is not lost. My friend the snake
slithers by, pretending unconcern, but
moving away from open-handed GIMEL,
the momentary master,
the guide and game, the giver.
© 2018 Stephen Howarth
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -FF