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As I walked out of the train station and towards my office, I used to hold one of the Twin Towers at my back.
Now, as I chance to turn around
or as I chance to look up when walking away from my office building and to the train station
I often see the wispy (ghostly?) image of the Tower
Until the eyes take over from memory, and I see the stocky form of the Financial Center behind it
"behind it"?
It is the holiday of Succot, when we are commanded to dwell (or at least take our meals) in a temporary hovel (a Succah), with loosely piled, gaping branches for a roof. The Kosher restaurants of lower Manhattan provide the service of such a hovel for their customers.
I sit in such a sidewalk hovel, with the plate on my lap, as the wind shifts. Sometimes it does that
the wind.
I try to eat while simultaneously holding my breath, to choke down the reheated, reconstituted pasta, while fending off the acrid scent
Taste
of the funeral pyre that burns in the place where ten thousand (or was it more?) people had so recently worked, shopped,
gawked in tourist wonder at greatness wrought by the hands of man.
its been three weeks has it?
It still burns, still claws its way into your lungs when the wind moves in the right
the wrong
direction.
I said my praises to God for providing me with nourishment
"praises to God"?
"the hovel symbolizes the frailty of man, impermanence of his designs in the face of the Divine eternal"
To everything,
Turn, Turn, Turn
"
and then shall come the war of Gog and Magog"
There is a Season,
Turn, Turn, Turn
"gog" is from the same root as the Hebrew word for Roof
"the war of Roof and the Acolytes of Roof" versus the Succah
All the strivings of men are as the blowing of wind
Our praises and prayers always end with the same request
May the Time of the Messiah come soon and in our time
then they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and the spears into pruning hooks, and nation shall not lift hand against nation, nor shall any learn the way of war any longer
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