At one hundred one plus ten more strong, Alexander Imich, received a song, weighted in sapphire weighted in strife, he wore tefillin, he wore life, it’s what we do. Scars like lightning, sunset on skin, Sharon Debunek, abused within, she thought about cutting a little bit more, but laws of her body, made her want more, so she smiles, and writes, it’s what we do. Alchemic waters, interest in law, balance of matter, destiny calls. Code on my forehead, blood in my skin, if there’s a reason, instinct within, logic in wanting, my love begins, it’s what we do.
In motion held sightless, hands above light, Alicia Alonso, spun in beauty into the night, she danced above promise, she twirled into flight, intuition of sight, it’s what we do. He rhymes in his madness, his mind split by a bullet wound, and when the right song plays, Lex Cordova, dances naked under his favorite moon. He researches heaven, and believes in seconds of life extended when he prays, it’s what we do. Simple beginning, to likely end, equal love for indignity of sin, a faith for every curtain of horror that’s been ripped from your soul. A search is over, a spark spoken, my love begins, it’s what we do.
Mathematical wings, by savant thunder, gaged and judged before nine, in keys of major majesty, Derek Paravicini takes the musical dais, and reaches a deeper place inside, it’s what we do. Deluded in richness guilt ridden by the touch of her father’s skin, Jenna Payne, rides between the cross and bulimic wrath, and in a sudden inspiration she sees a rock to climb. She ascends to touch the magic, the balance of grace and land, she rises to gaze the wonder, her body takes a stand, it’s what we do. For a lifetime the answer surrounds us, it reaches to touch us, to become us, to play us, to be what we do. My love begins, it’s what we do.
I wondered how it would end, the question first posed, “What do we do? I didn’t really lose any sleep over it, but being somewhat neurotic, and a little obsessive, I knew this week could not end without posting an answer. I read a story today on Chabad.org how 111 year old Alexander Imich was visited by a young Rabbi and he wore tefillin for the first time since his b’nai mitzvah in Poland over 100 years ago. Alexander like so many of the subjects in my short piece above, held the answer to my question first posed in “What do we do”. It is instinctual to live, to begin, to breathe, and to live according to a better law, it is logical to love, not want to love, but to love, and with that my love begins, it’s what I do. – דָּנִיֵּאל – 05.06.2014