Poems by Rivka Keren

“Cross Creek”
By Rivka Keren

In the Backwoods of Deep South
In the hamlet of Cross Creek
Surrounded by swamps
Misty orchards and
Dusty yard
There is an abandoned typewriter
On the veranda
Lost in the forest is
A long winding path
Drown silently in Lake Orange
Like a homesick dragon
This is the farm of
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
Pioneer woman
Author and traveler
Writing magnificent fiction
Oh, read The Yearling!
Growing oranges
Riding horses
Sailing into the unknown
Determined and fearless.
This is the lonely house of
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
Frozen in time
Coated with legends of
Wild restless days and nights
Like a sugar glazed apple
Locked eternally in the pantry
Behind broken glass.

Seasons change
People come and go
All these happened
Long long ago.

            By Rivka Keren

In the ruins of Pompeii
Our hearts are not broken
By the sight of the statues
Mosaics and frescoes
The temples the inns and the baths
The long deserted streets and roofless houses

In the ruins of Pompeii
Our hearts are broken
By the sight of the people
Frozen in their last breath
The moulds of their surprised bodies
Scattered around like odd warning signs

These are the people
Who lived in Pompeii
Until the twenty fourth of August Seventy Nine AD
And they did not believe that such a horror
Would happen
The way we still do not believe
After two thousand years
Not even after Hiroshima and Nagasaki

These are the frozen inhabitants of Pompeii
Who provide us with hope and grace
By breathing and laughing and singing in our fantasy
Because our hearts are broken
But our minds refuse to remember
That such a horror could happen again

“Our Dream”
            By Rivka Keren

Our dream
Is an opaque enigma
Graceful people
In dazzling gowns
Boulevards of
Granite and marble
Huge shining temples 
Labyrinth of canals and bridges
Framed by the turquoise sea
Palms bow in the breeze
Noble calligraphy
In candle light
Marigold, cinnamon, clove
Purple carnations
Scarlet roses
We are so blinded
By the perfection
By the absolute beauty
In our dream
And we ask
Where are we?
Where is this mystical island?
Can we belong?
Can we stay?
And the people
Are looking at us
In regret
In great sorrow
You are in Atlantis
They whisper
You are in Atlantis
They say

- Rivka Keren (b. 1946, Debrecen, Hungary) immigrated to Israel in 1957 and attained formal training in art, literature, philosophy and clinical psychology. Writing and painting  since childhood, she has published 15 books, including works for adults, adolescents and children, novels, short stories, poems and translations and has exhibited her paintings in several countries. She is the recipient of eight major literary awards, and her books are translated from Hebrew to German, English, Spanish, Russian and Hungarian. Her latest collection of 19 short stories in Hebrew was published in 2018. Three of the stories were published in English by Editions Bibliotekos. For further details please go to, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rivka_Keren 

Copyright©2020 by Rivka Keren. All Rights Reserved.