The Light of Chanukkah
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The Light of Chanukkah

A poem in celebration of the Maccabees' victory.

The sun sinks slowly beneath the trees
The leaves gain an eerie, but majestic edge
Masterfully casted from the liquid fire of that molten orb

Soon, darkness descends, and with it
gloom blankets the city in an all-encompassing shroud of silence.

All seems quiet, dead;
But no.

A whispered blessing can be heard,
and then — a mere pinprick of light penetrates the darkness
carrying with it more joy and happiness than seemingly possible.

A moment passes,
and as if by miracle,
Light, beautiful Light,
breaks through the barricade of darkness, emanating from the windows
of every Jewish home for miles around.

She spreads her wings, and with an almighty thrust,
bursts into the night – the joy, faith, and happiness
of every Jew mounted proudly astride her back.

She dances, leaps, soars throughout the city
proclaiming to God the hopes, sorrows, and unwavering love
of the Jewish people as a whole.

Finally, upon reaching the edge of the city
she slowly twirls to a stop,
gracefully landing before the window
of a small, but welcoming house.

Her essence flows forward, unhindered by any obstacle.
She rests on a knit rug and lovingly watches as an elderly man sinks
comfortably into a worn armchair before the menorah,
an enormous smile plastered across his face.

Slowly she approaches, her essence joining with that of the man
as he beckons his children and grandchildren closer.

“Come,” he says. “Come listen to the tale of the Maccabees, brave and bold;
of a miracle full of light and grandeur.”

“Come,” he says. “Come listen.”

Chanukah has begun.

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