It was the spring before I moved
to be with you
before we married
you flew out to see me
in Jerusalem
I was touched
excited so I found us
an apartment
we rented a car and drove
up north to Tzvat
where we shared a shabbos dinner
with a family you knew
the husband sang Eshes Khayil
a woman of valor
and we went shopping
in the outdoor market
I bought a shofar
still smelling of goat
and together
we looked at what
the local artists had for sale

We picked out something
by a woman from south africa
who worked in soft pastels
with colored pencils
a gentle fantasy with
three young men
up on a rooftop dancing
their hands uplifted
their eyes closed
as if in trance
faces serene
they seem like buddhist monks
rather than hasids

The colors are unnatural
but soothing
pink watermelon hills
behind the houses
the whole work speaks
a gentle whimsy
almost carefree
something I'd hardly seen
in Jewish art
except of course Chagall
but this had lightness
not the intensity of Chagall's vision
you let me keep it when we
parted company
now it brings to mind
the playful spirit
the sense of whimsy that
you bring to your own art