ARNOLD I met him when I was nine In a churchyard without sunshine He was from Russia by way of Vienna We played together just the two of us We were in school together From elementary through college I remember his wit and his brain With his head and his hands he could do anything He married a friend of my wife They had gone to school together like Arnold and I He was an architect, she worked with computers Two bright lights together as one But the straight lines didn’t satisfy him He started to paint, sculpt and carve His subjects were now pieces of art His love of God by way of his heart The synagogue held his objects of decoration To show the beauty of God’s creation Receptacles of light, hands in a wall Picture of a bird that needed no words His works were treasured by many Both Jews and Gentiles His commissions were plenty He used his gifts in response to God He survived the holocaust, this Russian Jew Gifted by God with talents not few To glorify God with his head and his hands His new home in a far distant land Early in life he was exposed to a disease Rarely seen today it is treated with ease It took him away, too early it seems But not before he could live out some of his dreams By Ted Pearson 05/16/2016
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