I’m no Lin Manuel

I can’t write sonnets on stage

I can’t free verse my thoughts verbally

Sharing my innermost voice aloud

word by word

on the spot

But my words build up

In my head and pour out

And now and then I write them down

Even more rarely I share them.

And my thoughts right now are unclear

My feelings are a haze of uncertainty

The pain of my soul is a mess of confusion

Combined with the joy of my own life and personal joy

Unsure how to combine the conflict of

Joy and hope and enthusiasm mixed with tragedy and pain.

I want to understand

Those that are so against my beliefs

Those with whom I disagree on each and every opinion

I cannot comprehend how they feel pain like mine from every headline

Yet urge others to vote for the point against mine.

How can someone strive to be good

and yet support what I find hateful

What I see to be so full of dread

That I cannot understand its support.

And it is so hard, near impossible, to enter conversation

To try to gain understanding

To strive for empathetic listening

We are so trained to just disagree and reject.

But then how do we find that moment

In which we can join

And find hope

And yet I continue to hope

And find hope in hope

And even when the others don’t listen

Even when the very questions I ask are rejected

I continue

And continue to ask and to talk and to answer and to give

my own opinions

And listen to those other than mine

Because that is where I believe we find hope.

And that is the only hope

And wherever we vote,

We will be as one in the long run.

And from empathy comes sympathy and I know this

and I try to remember this

And I try to remind others of this

And it remains a challenge to sympathize with those who seem non-empathetic

Even when my own sense of inclusion instructs me

That they are just trying their best

To create a world that is just

That is perfected

That is whole.

And love is love is love

Creeps forth in its own petty pace and overrides

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

which attempts its doom and dread

And yet love and hope and promise must burst forth.

And the light of their candle remains, day by day, signifying everything.

And so I continue

to continue

and continue

To try.

And to build.

And to try.


About rabbiisa

I'm a Reform Rabbi with a passion for education! I'm also a pop culture fan, political junkie, and NY Times crossword puzzle addict. I am INTP, a proud member of Red Sox Nation, and a fan of the Oxford Comma.

One response »

  1. Barbara says:

    Well, u may not have scripted “Hamilton” or free-versed or rapped, but whatever you want to call the form you used, you’ve expressed so well the frustration- and hope- that we all have to reconcile so that we can continue toward tikkun olam…

    Thanks for another thought- provoking blog of your thoughts. XO


    Sent from BZK’s iPhone


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