21 Elul 5774
By Scott Friedman
In honor and memory of the many people who taught me to read, think, write, talk, and laugh
The time had come
It did every year
The High Holy Days
Were finally near.
Rabbi told all
It is time to write
Stories of Elul
For every night.
Some went to Siri
To ask for the help
Others went diving
And frolicked in kelp.
Some to laptop
Tablet or gizmo
More toured planets near
Ork and Mninzloh.
She paced the room
Again and again
Pacing each day for
A moment of Zen.
Her children four
And none were the same
She wanted to teach
But not by a game.
The wise one asks
Eager to learn all
“How may I help you?
I won’t drop the ball.”
To the wise one
“It’s time to share thoughts
How do you prepare
The do’s and do not’s?”
The wicked one
In a mocking tone
Asks “Why should I write?
Just leave me alone.”
To the wicked
“In time you will see
The Elul stories
Help you and help me.”
The simple one
To mommy just asks
“What do I do next?
Please tell me the tasks.”
To the simple
Just simply express
“Use crayons or markers
There’s no need to stress.”
The wordless child
Who cannot speak yet
Stares, squirms, and giggles
Then crawls to the pet.
To the wordless
Laugh, smile, and glare
Too soon it will be
Your first turn to share.
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