GALILEAN PAGANIC ORGANIC VILLAGE

When in January
it’s cold and dry
Dionysus
the local god
of Tsippori
tap dances on his mosaic
the shadow of Yehuda Hanasi’s vineyard
sways in the vanishing breeze
tendrils wave like squiggly verses
at the mouth of the cave
on the round white wall
in a niche
a memorial candle in a motor-oil can
curls ear locks of soot
and under the square burial room
the Rabbi beats out a song
with a stone because
what does the Mishna matter
to a pagan organic village in the Galilee
when the purple figs
burst with honey
spirit flooded with love

ישוב גלילי פגני אורגני

ישוב גלילי פגני אורגני