Good fortune

1. In Zoar

         The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot entered into Zoar. …
         But his wife looked back from behind him,
         and she became a pillar of salt.
               Genesis

If you have ever been a refugee,

even if decades have gone by,

even if now
you are grateful
for your good fortune,
for your settled life
under the sunny skies in Zoar,

you do not let yourself
go soft.

You do not lose the skill
of packing swiftly, with precision.

You do not trust the luxury
of holding onto anything
that’s not essential
to getting out,
making it through the passage,
entering a new land.

You do not forget the story of Lot’s wife —
you heed its warning.

Do not look back.
Do not allow your gaze to stray
to what you had to leave behind.

You chance upon a Google Earth view
of a courtyard shaded by two old trees.

There were twin maples.
In autumn
one would drop crimson leaves,
the other — saffron.

You glimpse through windowpanes
a family celebration.
An impish, tousled child stands on the lap of an indulgent aunt
to pick a pastry from a platter.

Creamy filling blooms in the mouth
between the crunching layers of cinnamon crumbs.

You do not say a word.

Your face impassive,
you stare straight ahead,
rigid as a pillar of salt.



2. Survivor guilt

    
One was destroyed.

Another — left alive
and whole enough
to heal, even to thrive.

What, for lack of a better word,
gets called “survivor guilt”
is silence
incorrectly heard.

It is a feeling built
without a solid foundation
of cause and effect.

You acted wrongly;
wrongly failed to act;
you won by cheating
in some vital contest.

It is a phantom pain,
the non-existence of a contrast,
the absence of a difference
( be it of substance or of context )
that would be relevant and plain,

that would, failing to justify,
at least explain….
 


3. Turns of Fate


If you have never been a refugee

do not say:

I would not have been able to…

even if you mean it
to express admiration.

A refugee is not made
of sterner stuff
than your own
soft, vulnerable core.

A refugee is you yourself,
two turns of fate away
from where you are
now.