For the eleven killed at the Tree of Life Synagogue.
Your kippah is placed neatly on your head,
Your synagogue is a place,
To love and to pray,
And you clutch your star of david
As if it were buried treasure in the ocean.
And you dive deep into prayer,
Baruch Atah Adonai, Blessed are you God,
Protect those in danger,
Elohainu Melech Ha Olam, Ruler of the world
Shelter us from harm.
But it was the loudest silence you’ve ever heard,
A tsunami of shrieks,
And the red stained chairs,
The bloody plague from the torah,
Had been reborn in bullet form,
And you feel God has failed you.
Were you praying hoping he’d listen?
And holding your breath,
Were you asking him to help you?
Was your faith drowning?
“Is it my time?”
A siren howls outside,
Relief,
A sense of hope,
You knew God answered,
When the policemen walked in,
Your fellow Synagogues weave together with yours,
Like the strands of a braided challah.
Like a steady pulse,
Your sense of safety has lost control,
And no longer was the place you loved,
That place of sweet security,
That place you prayed,
That righteous place,
anymore.
Grade: 9
Glover Park, DC
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Michelle Obama
Go to med school and become a surgeon
My mother