Safe with Giora Romm

Are we just flies in winds of terror? No.

To be scattered like flying feathers? No.

You’ve read of stabbings on our streets? No.

You know they want the Jews to feel unhomed? No.

We’ve endured long between the lion’s bare teeth. No more.

Blood libel killed Bessarabian Jews. No more.

We’ve been brained and bloodied at heaven’s gate. No more.

We will not cower in sanctuaries of shame.

Ben Ami saw that salvation lies in strong arms. Yes.

We fling our fists in flights of steel, inscribe the sky

With the figure eight of our ace Giora Romm
above shimmering clouds silvering toward the moon.

Know: Our dead are never vainly dead without cause.
See the window lights shining like ripe golden wheat.
See the bride of Shabbat walk with her candle - safe.
See the land of Israel  blossoming like a rose.