To celebrate my recent inclusion in the ‘Modern Hebrew Literature Lexicon,’
below please find a new story—a poem, dare I say—in verse. (Link at the end.)
When Time Comes
There was an old man who lived in a cave/
the valley was flooded and many were dead.
His loyal dog had survived and so had he/
by the fire he read while the dog hunted free.
The rock-rabbits it brought on fire he cooked/
water was plenty as the rain never stopped.
He watched as the seasons turned their old pages/
snow and wind sweep silently across forgotten roads.
Over the fields of his childhood hush settled soon/
each blade of grass heavy with the passing of time.
Shadows crept on the walls stealthily day and night/
painting memories in delicate strokes of black and white.
Time, he understood, was slow now—a different river/
winding not in days or hours but in the steady pulse of eternity.
The cave was a world pared down to essentials: warmth of fire/
rhythm of rain, cries of joy when the dog returned with food.
His gaze wandered from faded lines to flicker of embers/
words drifting out of his mouth to mingle with raindrops.
Sometimes at the cave’s mouth he faced the swollen valley/
the ache of nostalgia breaking the walls of his solitude.
Sorrow and pain mattered not in the fire’s glow at night/
just the dream of youth and the press of his dog’s body.
And forever—the patient turn of pages when sleep escaped/
long after the flood had covered the world he knew.
But then one day the rain stopped and the sky cleared/
just as a white dove flew in to announce the latest bulletin.
In its beak it carried a handwritten letter for the old man to read/
from the country of his birth where he learned to walk and swim.
He was not forgotten there: he was etched in the book of life/
and could die peacefully, his dog by his side, when time comes.
(My page in the ‘Modern Hebrew Literature Lexicon.’ In Hebrew: הלל דמרון )
Below is the last vignette — published here for the first time in my literary website — that was published originally years ago in Hebrew, on the pages of ‘Iton77;’ the literary, cultural Israeli magazine. Next month, I will revisit this reportage, which was titled back then ‘The Absurd Regions,’ and publish the whole piece of this lyrical impression, which I wrote during the First Lebanon War of 1982-85. So stay tune, and here goes:
Hillel F. Damron @ hillelbridge.com 