(for Elizabeth Mark)
As the old year struggled to its end,
past the winter solstice,
our friend reached hers.
But let us not talk of shortened days
and the long night.
Let us remember her
of springtime and summer:
Bright of eye and strong of voice,
leading us in song,
a search for truth
and human meaning in the divine,
the harmonies among the discord.
There is a silence now, yet in it
we will hear her voice:
calling out in our ancient words
for the forgiveness of the people,
and then the last jubilation Kaddish.
Keith Tornheim, December 2006