Friday, April 11, 2008

Poem from G-d


My Miriam, my Miriam
This time, I write to you
While I may use your hands
These words you know are true

It took a while for you to find me
You counted to ten and didn't slow
You looked here and there, high and low
I watched you run, I watched you go

You looked in the trees, just ate the pear
You looked in the sky, just breathed the air
You looked in the dust, just played with the rocks
You searched the buildings, just sat in your box

An honest search you did have
But finding me did not come fast
So you cried hot flowing falls
Wondering how this could last

But I knew, my child, I knew
My daughter won't turn around
You needed my embrace
And you knew it could be found

I knew that you were coming
For many risks you did take
You encountered many cliffs
But you kept your eyes awake

Once you had walked the world
And lifted all the stones
You stopped, fell on your knees
And cried from deep in your bones

Burning tears fell while you spoke
My father, wherever you may be
Rise up, read my heart
And just speak to me

Alas, I had to tell you
From that burning fire dancing inside
I said, the search starts in you
For you know that's where I hide

I have waited there glowing
whispering
pushing
singing
twisting
pounding
breathing
Not allowing you to go numb
Just waiting for you to tell me
Ready or not, my G-d
Here I come

7 comments:

ML said...

That is the eternal quest that we strive for: We look, we stride, fall, and stand up once more . . . Only to find that what we were looking for was there with us all along.

We've all been there.
The setting may be different, but the message is the same . . .
A nice thought for before Shabbos.

the sabra said...

nice

Chana said...

I really like the ending. It seems like lately you've been building up for a sort of rebirth. Nice that Pesach is just around the corner; perfect time for renewel.

Itzhak Schier said...

beyond great! yasher koiach!

Mimi said...

ml: Has everyone really been there? It makes sense, but I don't know. I feel incredibly lonely in this cycle. Like a sole survivor. Even though I know that can't be true...

Sabrale: Hi. And hi's are too quick. And...and...yea. Glad you still visit :(

Chana: Yup. Rebirth is the word. Trying to figure out what I'm going to do with it, where I will go. Thank G-d for Pesach, ah?

IS: Thank you, thank you. And l'chaim to your real name.

ML said...

I know that I've been there. Life tends to make us think that we are the only ones that experience it -all too often I feel that way . . .

Perhaps that's why blogging is special, it gives us a peek into the lives of others, and we see that we're aren't alone.

Pesach is in the spring -the Jewish people are reborn, the Earth is reborn . . . it is the most apropos time for our own rebirth.

ChayAiz said...

why do you call this rebirth?
I can definitely relate, though your wholesome approach always amazes me... this process to me is asymmetric and I didn't recieve an answer...

I don't want an answer-- can I say I -found- G-d?