One, a poem by Gary Pacernick

A Jew is one who knows that night

Can come with the sun,

That the earth one stands on

Might turn to quicksand

And swallow his name, his breath,

Or that he might still be

In the whale’s belly,

That a man laughing unafraid

Can the next minute be Job

Blind from weeping in the void.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

As the Jew clutches his book

Swaying as he prays—

That small star in the dark sky

Symbolizing his destiny,

His seed growing in and out of time—

That he is one, that he is a Jew.