In my dreams, he stretches far
or holds the hand of shadows
lags behind as I try to catch up
my Rebbe of Prague who installed me
inside the Hall of Justice
as immortal as the iridescent cataract of hatred
a protector and shield of the people
an incantation called to order by a syncopated rhythmtwenty-two letters
cascading inside the other to bursting.
Breathe, open your eyes, he told me.
The Wonder Rebbe made me mute
so I would not need to guard what I said.
Others do not share this gift.
