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New Thanksgiving

Discussion in 'Poetry' started by Daniel-David-Joseph, Nov 26, 2020.

  1. Daniel-David-Joseph

    Feb 13, 2016

    I dream a dream in which I find myself walking up the steps to a big blue house.
    A black woman who seems to be working there as a domestic, leans her upper body over mine and embraces me in a warm, sensual, womb-like fashion, as a mother would embrace her child.
    Gathered thusly to her bosom I listen with pleasure as she proceeds to sing in a beautiful, motherly voice,
    A sort of lullaby that goes:

    “Your people and my people, when it won’t matter, just our people.”

    We are each the son or daughter of a nation
    We are each as well a link in the chain
    The chain that binds the world together
    The chain that makes all people one
    Let no man be so bold or vain
    That he would dare to break that chain

    In a time when the wolf
    Called by the voice in my dreams
    Ze’ev Olam
    “The World-Wolf”
    May be heard howling in the night
    All tribes are called to the Mother
    Who sings the song
    The song of we
    All tribes are called to the house
    Petals to the flower
    Branches to the tree
    The “Tree of Trees
    Great Great Great”

    In a time when Death Itself walks the Earth
    When it seems as if the world is under a terrible curse
    If not for you and I then for our neighbor
    All tribes are called to lift up their voices
    To join in the anthem of a new day:

    “Not your people
    Not my people
    Just our people”

    I dream a dream in which I find myself sitting at a table opposite a well known Christian.
    It makes me angry when in the course of our discussion he refers to me as “the Jew,” though I realize now
    he didn’t mean this in a negative way, but only wanted to show me
    how my defensiveness contributes to the atmosphere of tension between us.
    In the dream however, I reject the current state of affairs and remark:
    “It doesn’t make any difference that I’m a Jew and you’re a Christian,
    it doesn’t matter if you hate me, because there are much more important things out there
    we both have to fight against, which are our common enemy.”

    All tribes are called to the table
    Called to a banquet
    A banquet of love
    Called to share in a New Thanksgiving
    Called by the Mother
    The child
    The dove

    The spirit of peace
    Compassion and equality

    I dream a dream in which I see two women standing side by side.
    There is a podium or pulpit nearby laden with sacred books,
    and I realize that the two women are preparing to lead a special Sabbath celebration.

    They stand together
    Side by side
    The Mother of my People
    And “The Mother of the Whole”
    They stand together side by side
    Eema and Gaia
    Joined at the root

    “You don’t have to leave your house to join the house of we”

    In my dream both are worshiped
    In my dream both belong
    In my dream both are Goddess
    Both are sacred
    Both are strong

    In my dream
    Both are worshiped
    In my dream
    Both belong
    In my dream both are singing
    I hear them both in every song:

    “Not your people
    Not my people
    Just our people”

    I dream a dream in which a group of individuals from various ethnic and religious backgrounds
    arrive at the stairway in front of my house. They climb the brick steps and proceed along the path
    to the porch where I am sitting. A woman with the group hands me a small piece of paper decorated with symbols, one for each of the great religions. In addition to the paper she gives me a bright silver pin
    with which I unintentionally pierce the fingertips of my left hand so that they are knitted together in a tight sort of cluster. “Ah” says the woman, “you got stuck.” I ask her the name of the group but she doesn’t respond, and soon the woman and her companions depart. I have the sense that they will proceed from house to house in an effort to enlist as many people as they can in their unnamed cause.

    The small piece of paper in which the symbols are gathered
    The table where the Christian sits down with the Jew
    Each is another form of the house
    A metaphor of relationship

    Each is another form of the Mother
    “The enclosing vessel”
    The sheltering womb
    Each is another form of the Mother
    Whose lullaby I hear in the house of my dreams:

    “Not your people
    Not my people
    Just our people”

    Daniel David Joseph

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  2. Native

    Native Natural Philosopher & Comparative Mythologist

    Aug 25, 2011
    Natural Perceptions
    Thanks for your nice universal dreams and poetry :) In all accounts this confirms my profile signature :)
    #2 Native, Nov 26, 2020
    Last edited: Nov 26, 2020
  3. Rival

    Rival Veteran Member
    Staff Member Premium Member

    Jul 24, 2012
    בת נח
    • Like Like x 1