March 31, 2022, Israel
I noticed a post by a young woman who was once a student of mine. As a little girl she showed great talent and promise, but alas, like most students, disappeared.
and then today I noticed her post. Now she is a soldier and she sees the daily Arab attacks in the region where she serves. She writes that stone throwing, stabbing, Molotov cocktails are so common, i.e. attacks against Jews, that no one even gets excited about it. So here we are in the year 2022, the Zionist Dream has been fulfilled and Jews live in fear and terror. She writes how even soldiers serving in her unit are afraid to return back to base after leave, they dread the terror, the ongoing onslaught against Israeli soldiers and Jewish people. This is her new reality.
She writes " This is our everyday reality and it doesn't excite us anymore."
This is my always reality. I wrote her; Welcome to my world.
She made her post because she wants people to know, she wants to increase awareness, again, I write...welcome to my world. I have been doing this since before you were born. But in our community, I ask, are there one percent who come to my classes? I, whom with all due modesty am invited all over the world to teach the best of the best, in my own community, without asking for money, only have a very small class. Where is the awareness? Yes, I share her pain and frustration, she is new to this, for me it is all old news.
and in my head I hear the haunting melody and the eerie guitar solo of Eric Clapton, I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping, while my guitar gently weeps.
Yes, I look at you all, I see people sleeping, I see knife attacks daily, shooting, and yet...you are all sleeping. and my guitar, my soul, gently weeps for this human tragedy.
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping, still my guitar gently weeps,
to me this means, again, I look at the world and I see it needs sweeping, i.e. a solid clean up job, we have to clean up this mess, and yet nothing is happening, and so my soul, my mournful guitar, gently weeps as I play a Blues guitar solo that haunts and cries.
and the poet continues...I don't know why nobody told you..
Yes, I don't know why indeed, nobody told you that it is up to you to come to class and learn to defend yourself.
I look at the world and I notice it's turning, While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning, Still my guitar gently weeps
Yes, I look at the world, I see it is turning, not in a good way, I see everyone sleeping and my guitar weeps for everyone, for they are sound asleep in their comfortable beds waiting to be awakened by a nightmare.
The screeching bluesy guitar cries out...wake up and yet...I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping while my guitar gently weeps...
I look at you all...still my guitar gently weeps...