And the sons of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab for thirty days, and the days of weeping over the mourning for Moses came to an end. ~ Deuteronomy 34:8
I still weep for Moses.
The distant uncle I never knew
but know so much about,
whose words I can quote
and often sing, whose anger
I caught glimpses of
when we didn’t live up to what
he had hoped. I mourn his only glimpse
into our promised land.
Where would he have built
his tent had he been allowed in?
I want to visit his grave
and pay my respects, but it lays
across a river I have yet to cross
in a location undisclosed unto this day.
Who is unknowingly stepping on that spot?
What flocks have grazed upon where he
was laid to rest?
I want to lay stones wherever I go
in case that’s the spot. Does anyone say
Yizkor for Moses, or take out a memorial ad
in the bulletin? I’ve seen statues and
paintings, but his name rarely appears
on the leaves of the trees of life
on our synagogue walls.
I still weep for Moses
whose hand I never shook
whose eyes I never knew
whose efforts brought me to
where I am today.
Rick Lupert, a poet, songleader and graphic designer, is the author of 28 books including “God Wrestler: A Poem for Every Torah Portion.”
