A Literary Magazine in Support of the Jewish Community
Every Year We Open the Door
Every year we open the door
for Elijah and pray for the peace
that he will bring into the world
and we watch the door swing
open and wait for the sound
of his sandals to scrape against
the floor and the swish of his robe
to brush against the table
we watch for the slightest movement
of air, for the hint of a ripple in the goblet
of wine that we filled for him and set in
the middle of the table
It’s like watching for a ghost, waiting for
a memory to reappear, and each year
we hope to be given a glimpse of his beard,
his eyes, his hand lifting the cup to his lips
And every year he comes and departs
without letting himself be seen, invisible,
a dream, perhaps, that we dreamed one
year, and ever since we pray for the dream
to return
We call him Elijah the prophet—Eliahu
ha Navi—but we could call him Elijah the Ghost
because we never set eyes on him, even though
he comes every year to our table, perhaps not
to sip the wine from his goblet but just to see
if we are still waiting, still willing to believe
he will return.
Bruce Black
Bruce Black is the author of Writing Yoga (Rodmell/Shambhala) and editorial director of The Jewish Writing Project. His poems and personal essays have appeared in Tiferet Journal, Hevria, Jewthink, The Jewish Literary Journal, Soul-Lit, Poetica, Atherton Review, Elephant Journal, Blue Lyra Review, and elsewhere. He lives in Sarasota, Florida.
