2 thoughts on “David Grossman’s Son Dies in Lebanon – Tikun Olam תיקון עולם إصلاح العالم
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  1. Be My Branch

    You are our olive branch, Mr. David Grossman. On your outstretched arms we take in the sunshine; we grow from you– ripen, sweeten, mature.

    You, Oz, and Yehoshuah– branch, trunk, and steadfast root.

    let your silver-sequin leaves shudder in the chill wind, endure the knife in your bark drawing sap, parched earth retreating from around your planted feet.

    keep your toes in the impenetrable ground: hoar-frost, we will sparkle there, someday a rain you can drink with your open palms.

    may your orchard yield white blankets of fruit and amber oil;

    be my branch, and I’ll be tears of dew.

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