A MODERN MEGILLAH Naomi Wittlin
There are names we whisper And names we shout , Names that haunt the margins of history And those that demand the center . Esthers rise steadfast , Mordechais unshaken , Their voices clear and strong .
The scroll turns , Not just for the past . A modern-day Megillah of struggle and triumph . Pittsburgh . Monsey . Colleyville . Swastikas on gravestones , synagogues burned . Hostility on campus , words scarcely disguised .
Who dons the royal robes today ? And who will tear them ? The edicts are signed in whispers now , Unfolding through pixels and screens . Yet the weight of their scorn is ancient , And light must transcend the shadow .
The groggers spin , Piercing the silence of those held hostage , Drowning out whispers of hatred , Replaced by echoes of resistance , Masks fall away to reveal strength , And joy flourishing from ancient roots .
The ache of memory lingers , a pain that shapes but does not shatter , A people bound by stories untold , Their courage woven in ancient threads , telling of struggle , strength , and memory . A people unbroken , unbowed .
78