Words Heavy With Their Past Poem by gershon hepner

Respect words that are heavy with their past,
accept the darkness through which they give light,
allow the essence of their being to excite
without the pallor with which thought is cast
when it reflects on words that separate
true thinkers from the false like sheep from goats,
for this way only will you hear the notes
that resonate when words don’t throw their weight.


Elie Wiesel (“A Sacred Magic Can Elevate the Secular Storyteller, ” the NYT, June 19,2000) says that the tales he loved best of all were those told by Franz Kafka’s predecessor, Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav. When Kafka spoke of his wish to have his stories turned into prayers he was probably thinking of Rabbi Nahman, only he transformed his prayers into stories. Wiesel writes:

Now with the passing of the years I know that the fate of books is not unlike that of human beings: some bring joy, others anguish. Yet one must resist the urge to throw away pen and paper. After all, authentic writers write even if there is little chance for them to be published; they write because they cannot do otherwise, like Kafka’s messenger who is privy to a terrible and imperious truth that no one is willing to receive but is nonetheless compelled to go on…. Not to repeat oneself is every writer’s obsession. Not to slide into sentimentality, not to imitate, not to spread oneself too thin. To respect words that are heavy with their own past. Every word both separates and links; it depends on the writer whether it becomes a wound or balm, curse or promise. It would be simple and comfortable to play with words and win; all it takes is to play the game and practice a bit of self-delusion.

6/19/00