That morning
We first woke up as Jews.
Drank Turkish coffee.
Started complaining.
The King, Jewish?
This will not turn out well.
Like schoolchildren they spoke to us.
Fringes.
Little boxes.
the joy of learning a new language
a room in the brain we didn’t know was there.
fires engulfed our old gods.
sacrificial flames for the big new one.
but we winked across the aisle
backup plan under the floorboards.
We have been chosen
The grey beards tell us
And our homeland lies in ruins
And our temple desecrated
But we have been chosen.
We learn to sing a new song
The chicken is saltier now
But we all love the Sabbath
Huge improvement.
So now we are all Jews.
Feels weird.
Feels right.
Maybe we were Jews the whole time?
- Daniel S. Brenner
