The Minyans Have Become Threadbare

Ever get that hair-raising feeling something is going on, but you were left in the dark?

There is a communal sinking feeling that things are deeply wrong.

I bleed for this country’s wounds,

each stab, another blow.

Our ideals broken into many pieces

are a puzzle that we can’t decipher.

We are in a long, deep spiritual rut that

leads to only bad things, the more we try to extract ourselves,

we fail, for the sides are slippery mud.

Where is God as our country seems to vanish?

Perhaps this is how he tests each generation, L’dor V’ dor, with deep, dark chasms.

Fewer and fewer Jews seek You.

The minyans have become threadbare,

holding onto a string of hope

that ten men can save the world.

I pray to You, please bring us home!

Save the souls of the pious,

for from them, we become one with You.