Stones in the Stream

Stones in the Stream,
Braced against the sea, 
The river they’re beneath, 
Can’t stand to see them breath. 

For as the water rushes,
Every space it craves to fill, 
It tumbles, brays, and gushes,
As those stones just all stand still. 

Stones in the Stream,
Looking towards the sky, 
Can hold out tille at least,
The Stream one day runs dry. 

For as in history, 
The things that rage and flow,
Trample on the heavy, 
Things which will not go. 

Stones in the Stream,
Are sturdy like the Jews,
A stream of centuries,
Could not make us to move. 

For as the stone bears its burden,
To fight the Stream until, 
The Jew will know his purpose – 
He stands to serve G-d’s will. 

Stones in the Stream,
Weathered by the waves, 
Hope like bones that dream,
To one time see the day.

For so will go our story, 
Of those who did not waver,
Against the rushing times, 
Of men who drift like paper. 

They worship vulgar crimes.
It’s violence they favor. 
They could not tell, wrong from right, 
Yet still they judge their neighbor.