Storyteller

He said, “Sit down,” like a teacher
to his students. The ground was rocky
and uncomfortable and my full weight
on a sharp stone caused me to grunt
or make some guttural sound. He
turned his face to me, inquisitive at
first but quickly inviting. Then he
spoke. In some way I cannot explain,
his voice warmed the earth, replaced
all the jagged stones with soft blankets.
He captured time. His words filled the
evening air with magic and mystery,
my soul with beautiful confusion.

Words. Just words. But to this day
I can hear that voice like a song that
won’t go away. I hear him as I work
in the field or sit at my table at home.
He haunts my heart like no other
teacher I’ve known…and with such
simple stories. “Once there was a
man who had two sons…”

No wonder people call him
Rabbi. Such stories! Such
a man!