J. B. Drori

And the supernal Spirit
Hovered over the void.
A rotating orb,
The size of a woman’s fist,
Whirled into the belly of the abyss.

Twirling at the speed of light,
It erupted into vast clouds
Of yellow and scarlet interlacing plumes
Of exploding photons and fusing nuclei,
Flying off in all directions.

Blazing particles and bursting granules
Collided and coalesced into meteors, comets,
Stars, planets, moons and asteroids,
Forming immense galaxies,
Endlessly revolving around giant black holes.

And it came to pass that
A man from Earth, by name of Einstein,
Hitched a ride on a sunbeam.
He soon discovered the braided web
Of time and space, but got lost in gravity.
He treaded among the stars,
Wended his way between planets,
And unlocked the mystery
Of the physical universe, expressing it in
Four mathematical symbols: E=MC2.
Covered by primal dust and debris,
He straddled the rings of Saturn
And saw the universe and all its possessions
Forever in transition from form to form,
Perpetuating the circadian rhythm of the cosmos.


August 19, 2012


J.B. Drori

And then I saw you

Swimming alongside a regal white swan

In a deep blue lagoon.

Your joyous eyes sparkled

As you stretched your arms to cradle

The graceful white neck.

Together you rocked to and fro,

Dispatching ripples to the shore,

In nature’s sublime bosom.

You kissed the swan,

Then emerged, dripping

Water crystals from your long legs and arms.

You smiled at us and we saw a sunrise.

Your hazel eyes bestowed joy on us

And your love nurtured our souls.

Your name will live forever,

Your love will endure through us,

And may your birthdays be endless

April 1. 2012


                                                                                               J. B.Drori

A poet once wrote

‘April is the cruelest month.’

Because it promised

A brilliant rebirth

Of a spring of flowers.

Instead it brought

A time of thunder and lightening,

Whipping winds and hard hail,

Smothering the planet in an opaque fog

And the people in melancholia.

I say look again

And you will see through a rainbow

Trains of fluffy white clouds

Drifting leisurely eastward

In a translucent turquoise sky

Where the sun will rise to warm

Earth’s leafy trees and tickle the plants

To blossom and perfume the air,

To give glorious colors to the eye,

And joy and beauty to the soul.



J. B. Drori

Commanded by God, Adam and Eve, marked for eternity,

 shuffled out of the east gate.

They stopped at a hillock nearby

And looked back at their garden.

Two archangels descended to guard the gate,

brandishing flaming swords.

“Woe to us for what we’ve done,” Eve said.

 “And we lost the favor of our father,” Adam muttered.

Black bile of melancholia,

Oozing out of the tips of the swords,

curled into a black vapor

and rose above trees, hills, and mountains.

It floated higher than the clouds,

to where the blue meets the black,

settling in between them at the edge of space

to be on call to mankind for its needs.

Watered by tears of motherless children,

fed by inaudible groans of toothless , wrinkled old men

withering in barren rooms, and nurtured by desiccated old

women sucking on betel leaves,

melancholia fattened,  expanding to form a ring

around the globe.  It exuded invisible filaments

for delivery of  sadness and despair to the inhabitants below

for deepening of their pain and suffering.

Suddenly a thunderclap heralded a heavenly voice.

“Behold!  Behold the first murder!”

A giant image spread across the firmament.

“Oh! My God, “ Eve cried out, “they are our sons,-

“Cain and Abel.”

 A panorama of giant visuals, one after another,

paraded across the sky :

men stabbing, beheading, stoning, beating other men,

no different from themselves.

Children and women were clubbed by men, stampeded by horses,

houses and places of worship were set ablaze.

All mayhems were followed by drunken celebrations, grotesque

debauchery and obscene scenes of grateful sacrifices to God.

Drenched in tears, Adam holding Eve to his bosom, cried out,

“These all are our children.”

  Looking up at the sky, Eve screamed ,“Enough!  Enough!”

“I cannot look at anymore!”

Collapsing at Adams feet, Eve dissolved in sobs and tears.

He stood up and raised his voice.

“Father in heaven,  how much longer will our children continue to

slaughter each other?  When will this cease?”

Suddenly, the sky darkened, all sound disappeared.

A soft and gentle voice was heard from God’s throne.

“All this slaughter will end when mankind heeds

Cain’s message .”

You are all each others’  keeper!


Page 1


J. B. Drori

I squinted at the spires of sky-high forests of

cement-buildings piercing clouds, blocking the sun,

its beams searching for its ancient trees

in streets,  avenues, yards and parks.

Thousands of life-less eyes, quadrangular glass windows,

peer down on a throng of harried street-walkers bearing down.

I was propelled forward against a sullen red-eyed hulk and tightened my grip on my teen sister’s hand, hanging on.

That wasn’t the worst thing.

Countless automobiles, horns blaring, tires screeching,

careen up and down congested streets,

narrowly miss pedestrians or each other,

raising the noise to hypertensive levels.

I was staring at the most renowned city in the world,

wishing to be in my recent small town of Tel Aviv,

where people, horses and wagons, outnumber cars,

except, of course, for the occasional camel.

Nor was this the worst thing.

Page 2

Crowds of walkers, eyes dead ahead, hurried on,

as if their life and fortune were at stake.

No street, alley, avenue, sidewalk, or road

was devoid of the heaving, talking, driven man.

Always speaking, some gesticulated, few shouted or whispered.

Now and then I saw one or two leaning against a gray building,  eyeing the hordes as if monitoring entrants to paradise.

So much talking?   And all in a strange tongue?

That too wasn’t the worst thing.

Then came my first school day in Detroit.

I was standing in front of a blackboard,

before a class of children, younger than my age  of nine,

watching them gawk and laugh at me.

They whispered and jeered, pointing fingers,

and I comprehending not a word.

That was the worst thing.

I felt myself shrink down to a sparrow

and flit out an open window.


Page 3


J. B.  Drori

A pale moonbeam,

straying in through my window,

muted the hum of darkness

and landed on my slumbering eyelids.

Lured by its silver light,

I followed it outside,

to the far side of my garden,

to a mount by a large pond.

Half the sky was aglow,

reflected in a pine forest on the slope

of a near mountain,

scintillating in the lunar light.

I gazed at the full moon

and sank to my knees,

jolted by two dark eyes

and a black line beneath.

“My God, is that you, Mother?”

Trembling, I lowered my head

and cried out, “ I roam the earth,

Searching for you.”

Page  4

A cloud darkened the moon,

An owl hooted in the distance.

I rose to my feet and shook my fists

at heaven, yelling my heart out.

“Why?  Why were you taken

before I got to know your face?

How am I to know who I am, Mama?”

But the moon was still dark.

The hum of darkness returned to my room

when I slid into my bed.  I shut my eyes

to muffle my voice of yearning.

A soft, caressing whisper sounded in my ear.

“Wake up, old man, wake up.

Or your nightmare will kill you.”



A Hymn

by  J. B. Drori

America.  America.

Glory.  Glory.

Higher than your mountains,

Greater than your oceans,

Is your innate nobility-

Your birthright,

Not taken or bestowed.


Masterful is your claim

Where every citizen is

His or her own sovereign.

A nation of kings dedicated

To rule for the common good.


Eternal be this truth for you

\                                              But not for all people everywhere?

Thus, despite the burden of your blemishes,

Or perhaps because of them,

You heeded the cry of your brothers and sisters


Reverberating around the globe.

And dispatched the flower of your youth

To deliver the people from their tyrants.

You opened your treasury to rebuild

Their homelands, burying your heroes in foreign soil.

Should you inquire, “Has any nation ever

Expressed gratitude for your offering of  liberty?

Do they commemorate

The day of their emancipation?

Do they remember?”

Ask the Jews.

They know.

Care to learn if any of the nations of the world

Ever thanked the Children of Israel for their

Gift of Ethical Monotheism?

Ask and you will hear a resounding silence,

A death knell of marching ghosts.


But mark this on marble pillars of your public halls.

A day will come – because of you – America,

When the nations of the world will see the light

And claim their birthright of liberty

For all of mankind everywhere.


America.   America.

Blessed are you among the nations.

Halleluyah.  Halleluyah.



Blog – 1/12/11

Copyright -© J. B. Drori – 2011


J, B. Drori

After the beginning, the Lord God

Formed the Garden of Eden,

Created Adam – man, and Eve – woman,

And placed them there.

“This is your Paradise,” God said.

“You will want for nothing.

You will live long and happily

As long as you obey my every word.”

“You may eat of all that grows in the garden

Save for the fruit of the tree of life

And the tree of total knowledge.

Both trees thrive in the center of the garden.”

“Remember!  Do not eat of the forbidden fruit.

Don’t venture there.

Do not be tempted.”

And the Lord God vanished in a whirlwind.

Silence descended on the garden.

Nothing stirred.

Adam and Eve rose from their knees.

“Where, did God say?”  Eve asked.

“In the center of the garden.

But do not go there.  It is forbidden.”

“So why did God tell us?” Eve asked.


And that is how our Paradise began.


Oh, the Enigma of it all.