Shh...

We act on scraps of information--sifting half-remembered directions that we can hardly separate from instinct (1). Is this not how we go about our lives? Most times, we don’t know the whole story, but we rely on vague details that seem to fit, and spread rumors and lies like a Californian wild-fire, never mind who we may burn in the process. When a new bit of information gets out, suddenly everyone is an expert, has an opinion and must give his two cents. But… brevity is the soul of wit (2), and we must learn to just… shhh… keep your opinion for yourself… restrain yourself from pressing the “comment” button… hold back your “sharp tongue” from unleashing a fury of uneducated statements and blatant disregards from the laws by which we follow…

“Siyag l’chachma shtika…” The wise man knows when to shut his mouth… better to be thought of as a fool then to open your mouth and remove all doubt…. Yes, you may be right… but shhh… hold back… for just one moment… for just one second, stop your lips from moving… shhh… revel in the silence of swallowing your big ideas and smart ideals… that are rather not idealistic… can you back yourself up with irrefutable facts and proof? Do you have the signature of an expert on the matter or a Rav on the barrage of well-worded comebacks that you want to spit out?

Were you there when the accident happen? Are you a posek on the ways of the world? Are you certain you know what you are saying? The degradation of society is a man who doesn’t know when to keep quiet… when a man… or a woman has so much to say… and doesn’t understand that it isn’t the time to say it… our history is filled with those spoke when they should have kept silent… and they paid dearly for their actions… (Shmuel HaNavi (3)… Shlomis bas Divri... (4). They lost clarity… lost Yerusha…

And so you wonder, what is the reward for silence? Is it really worth it to hold back one moment of satisfaction for… something else?

Yesh Sachar L’P’Ulasech (5)… Rochel kept quiet when her sister Leah was under the chuppah… she had every right to scream, “NO! He’s mine!” Yet she held back her tongue during that moment… and at the appropriate time, she gave the signs… then withdrew into silence… and for that, her children were redeemed…(Yirmiyahu)

And so too… if we… just… shh… we will… be… redeemed… the day shall yet come when the maidens rejoice… when the old men and young dance together (6)… when we will dance into the streets of Yerushalayim… so please… for the sake of redemption… for the sake of salvation… for the sake of your nation… just please… shhh….


1. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Tom Stoppard
2. Hamlet, William Shakespeare
3. Melachim Aleph
4. Chumash Shemos
5. Yirmiyahu, Perek Lamed Aleph
6. Yirmiyahu

Unspoken

Words unspoken

In haste, forgotten

Yet in waste,

Turned rotten...

Precious few can describe

Or even compare

Yet completely worthless

When unreleased into the air

Kept quiet

For far too long

You were uninformed

About what was wrong

Trapped inside my head

Never escaped my mind

Lips sealed

In vain, to be kind

Passive behavior

Yet yelling would be better

Or penned

In an honest letter

Words never brought

To fruition or life

Will cut worse

Then the sharpest knife

Given the chance to speak

I remained unspoken

And now I remain

Completely broken.

It's A Mime's World

Sitting on the edge
Just a stranger staring in
Am I in this world
To succumb or to win?

My world painted
In black and white
No colors to shine
No expressions to delight

Just an observer
Watching the crowd pass by
No one bothers to notice
Acknowledge or say hi

So relentlessly I try
To make my presence known
With a show, so distinct
And all my own

Hands held in front
Submission, I portray
Perhaps surrendering
To take away the gray

Around and around
I pull myself in this slow dance
With slow movements
I feel stuck in this sick trance

I stand before the audience
Who don't notice or see
Am I really so invisible?
Am I really stuck in this reality?

I try
In my own silent way
To prove my existence
But no one notices, to my dismay

I pucker my lips
And cross my arms
Sit down and pout
But can't raise the alarms

Just silence, silence
Sweet silence, precious quiet
While inside burns
A raging riot

But ne'er shall I speak
The thoughts on my mind
They are things that people
Would rather not find

The twisting maze
With no way out
The screaming voices
With no way to silence their shouts

The grabbing hands
That reached for what isn't there
An answer to a question
So simple and clear

Black and white.
Separate and distinct
But in my world
Nothing is that concrete

It's all confusion
All a mess
And still I try
To do my very best