The Land that Fills My Dreams

Poems

By Mindy Aber Barad

89 pages
Cover Illustration: floral weatherproof Succot panel by Ita Aber, 1993
Coll: Yeshiva University Museum, NY
Cover design: Dfus Noy
Printed in 2013
Mindy Barad's first collection of poems, The Land that Fills My Dreams, opens a pathway to a rich world of poetry that focuses on the Land of Israel, the Jewish people, and the women of the Bible, yet also allows the reader to peer into the poet's inner life. Like King David's palace in one of the earlier poems, this book of poetry "points the way / Upward." While it is true that "In the hearts of millions / There is only Jerusalem," it is equally true that "the sun moves from one window / to the other," permitting us, togeher with the poet, to "cook up expectations / of the coming of the Messiah."
Yakov Azriel, author of Threads From A Coat Of Many Colors: Poems on Genesis, In The Shadow Of A Burning Bush: Poems on Exodus, Beads for the Messiah's Bride: Poems on Leviticus, and Swimming in Moses' Well.

An aromatic and tasty slice of life in the hills of Judea. In well-crafted and often powerful poems, commitment and fear and determination find voice amid the cycles of the seasons and the personal life and the stream of Jewish faith and destiny.
Esther Cameron, author of Fortitude, or the Lost Language of Justice: Poems in Israel's Cause and The Consciousness of Earth.


Distributor: Rubin-Mass Ltd.
Office: 7 HaAin-Chet, Jerusalem
Mail: POB 990, Jerusalem 91009, Israel
Telephone: 02-6277863
Facsimile: 02-6277864
Email: rmass@barak.net.il
Web Site: www.rubin-mass.com
60 NIS

The book is for sale by the author at mbarad@icloud.com for 55 NIS including local postage.
Overseas orders will be priced according to the prevailing exchange rate


Excerpt



Summer


Dried thistles whisper
On the light breeze
Thank you for
A tiny cloud
That passes           overhead
With just enough shade
To blink
And sigh


Sun-drenched thorns
Threaten
And doing so
Hold back their secrets
Locked inside


Summer’s secret
Why           it           won’t           rain
For months and months
And why the parched fields
Have no strength
To lift the heavy layer of heat


The secret:
Only what we see and feel
Is dry and hot
Each one of us
Each animal
Plant
And rock
Is looking inward
To Reality
Nurturing the fluids
That give us life
Asking ourselves
Do we deserve this?
Do we deserve
The thorny fields
The thirst
The endless blue sky
And that one tiny cloud



At Sixty


which one of us is getting older?
you still feisty
while I lag behind
younger
less ravaged
but tired
tired.


thousands of years old –
or sixty
fifty?
forty?
haven’t we all suffered enough?


you wear peacock blue
with a swagger
I am wrapped in black
too often
I am choked there
the wind
waves your blue in white.


you sparkle
drag me along
a rag doll –
in your games
for which my patience wanes.


I can no longer wait
for your spirit
to arouse mine
He is late
and I can no longer…