Tag Archives: the Pines

by | September 1, 2013 · 12:34 pm

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 6 – A Poem for the New Year

Since 1999 I have served as Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Olam.  B’nai Olam is a unique and special congregation in Fire Island Pines, a beautiful summer community on Fire Island, a barrier island off the Coast of Long Island, which meets only  for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.  In 2007 I began writing a new poem every year for Rosh HaShanah – feel free to also read 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011.  Here is the sixth, from 2012.  Shanah tovah u’metukah.

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines, 2012/5773

 

WaterWe emerge, quiet and subdued,

into the darkening night of new year.

Across the dunes the ocean roars into the wind.

 

The tide tugs at our souls, a beckoning.

The pounding surf calls us to attention

and we turn, alert and yearning.

 

Tomorrow, under the bright sun of a fresh day,

seagulls will grab our handfuls of transgressions

tossed with great hope into the foamy spray.

 

But tonight the sea is dark, roiling and rough.

Waves beat against the shore,

then release, churning, back out to the horizon.

 

We are small, inconsequential in the infinite universe

yet even in the dim light of the setting sun

we cast a shadow on the sand.

 

As evening descends the air is crisp, bristling with possibilities.

Above, the sky fills with bright bursts of monarchs

making their annual pilgrimage home.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Hara E Person

1 Comment

Filed under High Holy days, Judaism, Poetry

Tagged as , , ,

by | August 30, 2013 · 11:59 am

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 5 – A Poem for the New Year

Since 1999 I have served as Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Olam.  B’nai Olam is a unique and special congregation in Fire Island Pines, a beautiful summer community on Fire Island, a barrier island off the Coast of Long Island, which meets only  for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.  In 2007 I began writing a new poem every year for Rosh HaShanah – feel free to also read 2008, 2009, or 2010.  Here is the fifth, from 2011.  Shanah tovah u’metukah.


Rosh HaShanah in the Pines, 2011/5772

 

IMG_0251Darkness settles, slowly, across the horizon.

The new year rises before us,

its fragile moon awaiting our embrace.

 

Heaven and earth entwine

in their annual dance of re-creation.

A fissure appears in the firmament tonight,

an entranceway into new beginnings.

 

Out beyond the swales

the sea expands and contracts,

keeping time to the thrumming of the universe.

 

Under this Rosh HaShanah sky

the path before us is uncertain.

All we can do is hold each other tight

as we make our way home.

 

2 Comments

Filed under High Holy days, Judaism, Poetry

Tagged as , , , ,

by | August 27, 2013 · 9:47 am

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 3 – A New Year’s Poem

Since 1999 I have served as Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Olam.  B’nai Olam is a unique and special congregation in Fire Island Pines, a beautiful summer community on Fire Island, a barrier island off the Coast of Long Island, which meets only  for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.  In 2007 I began writing a new poem every year for Rosh HaShanah.  Here is the third one, from 2009.  Shanah tovah u’metukah.

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 3

Fire Island Pines, 2009

 

IMG_3121Under a cerulean sky

we gather together

cloaked in the warmth of mid-September sun.

 

Renewal comes heralded by the screech of seagulls.

Houses decked out in summer finery

offer dappled turquoise pools for self-reflection.

 

The still-rowdy sun of early fall

is tempered only by the vigor

with which we approach our appointed task.

 

Faces bared to the breeze off the sea

we allow ourselves to open,

turning toward the sweetness of beginning again.

 

We stand on the shore of the new year,

feet awash in the fragile foam of creation,

cleansed and purified by the embryonic ocean brine.

 

Copyright © 2009 Hara E. Person

Comments Off on Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 3 – A New Year’s Poem

Filed under High Holy days, Judaism, Poetry

Tagged as , , , , ,

by | August 26, 2013 · 7:57 pm

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 2 – A New Year’s Poem

Since 1999 I have served as Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Olam.  B’nai Olam is a unique and special congregation in Fire Island Pines, a beautiful summer community on Fire Island, a barrier island off the Coast of Long Island, which meets only  for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.  In 2007 I began writing a new poem every year for Rosh HaShanah.  Here is the second one, from 2008.  Shanah tovah u’metukah.

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines, Fire Island 2

                                                            2008/5769
IMG_3095This late in the season

decks are bare,

houses closed up until next summer.

Torsos are covered,

tattoos and piercings remaining undisplayed

until the cycle repeats itself next year.

Geraniums are gone,

eaten by deer weeks ago,

leaving gray-weathered boards

brightened only by blue tarps

of now-covered pools.

 

IMG_3159Scrub pines

rooted deeply in sand

offer occasional shelter

from the scouring late-September gusts.

The sea laps a lullaby against the shore.

 

Holy days arrive amidst autumn’s pumpkin

and apple harvest.

We make our own stark beauty

on this strip of sand

cleansing our souls in this pared down paradise.

Late this year, but never too late.

 

Copyright © 2009 Hara E. Person

 

Leave a Comment

Filed under High Holy days, Judaism, Poetry

Tagged as , , , , ,

by | August 23, 2013 · 12:02 pm

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines 1 – A New Year’s Poem

Since 1999 I have served as Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Olam.  B’nai Olam is a unique and special congregation in Fire Island Pines, a beautiful summer community on Fire Island, off the Coast of Long Island, which meets only  for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur.  In 2007 I began writing a new poem every year for Rosh HaShanah.  In these days leading up to Rosh HaShanah, I will be sharing these poems here.  Shanah tovah u’metukah.

IMG_0248

Rosh HaShanah in the Pines, Fire Island, 2007/5768

Slanted light filters through pine trees,

sweet smell of resin stickiness,

rough wood of the boardwalk

— careful to avoid the nails —

moist breaths of salt air,

rusted sliding doors open grudgingly onto decks.

 

The new year comes amidst

heightened senses,

grains of sand between toes,

nearly empty gray blue beaches,

autumnal monarchs alighting on end-of-season purple buds.

 

One more year.

Who is missing from the congregation?

My father gone now four years,

the kids taller,

grumbling teenagers who crave attention.

 

An orange sun setting over the bay.

Phosphorescence outlines each crest of waves.

Flashlights in the dark

guiding us home.

 

© 2007 by Hara E. Person, originally published in Bridges.

1 Comment

Filed under High Holy days, Judaism, Poetry

Tagged as , , , , ,