It is written in the Bible that once the bedrock
Of faith is destroyed, the righteous are cast adrift
As ones wandering, sunburned and thirsty
Endlessly in the great desert. Oh, yes, I quoted
From Scripture—the Bible, the Torah…tell me,
Where is the real difference, for I have found,
In my time in this grand and gleaming place,
That it is not unwise to cover all your bets.
For myself, I was fortunate to discover
That the breakdown of tradition and time-honored rituals
Is not so much the death of one’s ways
As much as a rebirth, or the act
Of having your eyes opened for the first time
To what is of true value in this world.
The suffering, the sacrifice, the endless bowing and scraping
To custom, only to find that as the cosmic roulette wheel
Spins round and round (God as croupier—who knew?)
That the ball will land on red or black not because of
But in spite of your deeds and obesiance.
A sobering thought, yes, but liberating as well,
And now I live my life in a manner befitting a man
Who knows that both rabbi and dealer
Will stand pat before kings.