Hevrah Kadisha Poem by Tovli Simiryan

Sleep a raw deep
dream
that knows restfulness and let go
beneath our sorrowful tones;
climb our air; we’ll grow you a tree,
the sweetness of its fruit
will make you busy.
There are no invasions planned
this year.
Please. Sleep quiet in plastic blankets,
yet gather your strength
from each dream played out,
each extremity may twitch itself into life-
our dreams descend from gentleness
somewhere beyond our little yard.
This is the sleep babies cry for,
yet guardians fear deep inside the illness
of freshly healed soil.
It may seem so easy, thinking backward;
like cliché verse it may rise like bullets,
catch us off guard, with no more seeds to plant
before the early frost.
But soon, sufficient prayer
assumes the design of unanswered tirades.
When we are complete
with this anger,
there may be something that rises from our earth
traveling quite a distance, the next hill, pond or tree trunk
will keep you alive, tubes in place.
The quiet of harvest will touch softly,
pretending to emulate the color brown.

Near this turn our pathway ends, and
you will not be close inside this room.

First appeared in Ariga; Copyright ©Tovli Simiryan MMV