Two Throwns of Grass

I'm sitting in a field vast and wide in a part of Berlin. The magnitude of this place shows up everywhere, even on the floor, even in the fields, even in the grass. My mind wanders — to places of the past, future, and present.

I'm laying in the field with my head pressed up against the grass. My eyes open and close. At one point I notice a blade of grass. He's taller than the rest. Just a bit. The way he sways. His color looks different. Maybe exotic even. Hard to tell with the sun shining so bright.

And then I wonder.

If I rip out that blade of grass, does his family weep? Does each piece of grass always worry, when’s it gonna be my turn?

If I rip out that blade of grass, does that affect everything — from wind pattern to resources needed to break down and eventually reproduce? How far and wide is that ripple?

If I rip out that blade of grass, my doing so would be the end of his life. Does it work that way in human life as well? Can anyone above us just pull the plug?

If I rip out that blade of grass, what does that make me? Does that say the type of person I am?

If I rip out that blade of grass, will I still hear it screaming when no one else is listening?

If I rip out that blade of grass, will it make a rip in the cosmos? It stretches out for miles. One blade doesn’t seem to make that much of a difference.

What happens if I don’t rip out that blade of grass?

Maybe I’m that blade of grass. And somewhere, Someone is still deciding about me. And if the King is in the field, then every blade of grass is a throne.

Maybe He’s waiting to see what I’ll do with this blade of grass here today, and I get to decide my own fate.

Yea I know this one’s weird, not the typical Shabbos Shuva drasha. But not thinking about it is definitely worse than ripping it out with intention.

אלול – ברלין

המלך בשדה

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