The Blogs: Poetry in Times of War and AI

“Through the stained glass of our history, light has found a way, Yet here we stand, in darker times, where night obscures the day.

Our roots, deep in Jerusalem’s embrace, hold stories old and true, Of perseverance, faith, and love, in skies of endless blue.

But now, my children, we face a storm, its winds both harsh and cold, Yet within your eyes, I see the spark, our ancestors’ courage bold.

The world outside may rage and roar, with voices led astray, Remember, love’s eternal flame will guide us through the fray.

For you are made of stardust, from Abraham’s endless sand, With the strength of Moses’ commandments held tightly in your hand.

Do not let hatred’s shadow your bright spirits ever dim, For you carry within your hearts, a holy, sacred hymn.

Sing it loud, my cherished ones, let its melody rise above, For you are the bearers of our future, the architects of love.

In the wake of October’s seventh, our world was torn asunder, A testament to peace’s cost, in a moment steeped in thunder.

Yet from this pain, we must find strength, and in unity, we’ll stand, A testament to resilience, across our hallowed land.

So from this darkness, we will emerge, with hope as our decree, For in you, my beautiful children, lies the path to victory.”

(Written by ChatGPT on April 3, 2024, in response to my prompt asking it to compose a poem where a Jewish father talks to his children about the state of the world after October 7th.)