Poet­ry

To Phrase A Prayer for Peace

Don­na Spruijt-Metz

  • Review
By – August 25, 2025

The Book of Psalms has long served as one of Judais­m’s most inti­mate prayer col­lec­tions, offer­ing a lan­guage for the human soul’s deep­est emo­tions — grief, grat­i­tude, des­per­a­tion, and hope. These ancient texts con­tin­ue to pro­vide read­ers with words when their own words fail, a bridge between the per­son­al and the divine, the imme­di­ate and the eter­nal. In To Phrase a Prayer for Peace, Don­na Sprui­jt-Metz enters into con­ver­sa­tion with this sacred tra­di­tion, craft­ing a con­tem­po­rary poet­ic dia­logue with the psalms’ endur­ing rel­e­vance through dif­fi­cult times. 

Writ­ten in the after­math of Octo­ber 7th, this col­lec­tion is both a diary and a devo­tion­al text, chron­i­cling the poet­’s emo­tion­al and spir­i­tu­al jour­ney through cri­sis. Spruijt-Metz’s poet­ry puls­es with a fer­vent wish for peace, yet refus­es the com­fort of plat­i­tudes. Instead, the author con­fronts the com­plex­i­ty of bear­ing wit­ness to suf­fer­ing from afar, grap­pling with the dichoto­my between her life in the Unit­ed States and the bru­tal real­i­ties of war. In one poem, she speaks with pierc­ing hon­esty of her inner turmoil:

And now

can I stop

with this?
 

Even though

breath

has become a privilege?

The poems in this col­lec­tion express empa­thy for all caught in the mech­a­nisms of vio­lence — Israelis and Pales­tini­ans alike — while simul­ta­ne­ous­ly explor­ing the poet­’s own vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty as a Jew­ish woman nav­i­gat­ing through an increas­ing­ly polar­ized world. The poet­’s phys­i­cal dis­tance becomes both a priv­i­lege and a bur­den, offer­ing per­spec­tive while deny­ing the imme­di­a­cy of shared suffering.

Cen­tral to the col­lec­tion’s archi­tec­ture is Sprui­jt-Met­z’s engage­ment with the psalms them­selves. The psalms’ his­tor­i­cal func­tion — to give voice to the voice­less, to demand jus­tice, to cry out against oppres­sion — res­onates through her work, cre­at­ing a con­tin­u­um between ancient lament and mod­ern witness.

Hel­lo, silent one.

Are my war poems

Mak­ing you

Uncom­fort­able?
 

It’s only anguish. 

The ques­tion of where holi­ness might reside in such anguish threads through the col­lec­tion, nev­er resolved but con­tin­u­ous­ly explored. Sprui­jt-Metz locates the sacred not in easy answers but in the act of sus­tained atten­tion — the refusal to look away, the com­mit­ment to hold­ing mul­ti­ple truths, the courage to speak when say­ing noth­ing would be eas­i­er. We humans,” she notes, destroy every­thing we touch.”

To Phrase a Prayer for Peace is a tes­ta­ment to poet­ry’s capac­i­ty to hold con­tra­dic­tion with­out res­o­lu­tion, to bear wit­ness with­out claim­ing false author­i­ty, and to call on the divine, and the mys­ti­cal, in the midst of human bro­ken­ness. It offers no solu­tions to the intractable con­flicts it address­es, but pro­vides some­thing per­haps more valu­able: a mod­el for how to remain human in the face of inhu­man­i­ty, how to main­tain hope with­out deny­ing despair, and how to pray when prayer feels impossible.

Joan­na Chen is a British-born writer and lit­er­ary trans­la­tor from Hebrew to Eng­lish whose trans­la­tions include Agi Mishol’s Less Like a Dove, Yonatan Berg’s Frayed Light (final­ist for the Nation­al Jew­ish Book Awards), and Meir Shalev’s My Wild Gar­den. Her own poet­ry and writ­ing has appeared in Poet Lore, Man­tis, the Los Ange­les Review of Books, Nar­ra­tive­ly, and the Wash­ing­ton Month­ly, among oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. She teach­es lit­er­ary trans­la­tion at the Heli­con School of Poet­ry in Tel Aviv.

Discussion Questions