Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Wrestle -

The air so thick.

The energy so tangible.

A separation so desperate to be breached.

An urge begging to be redeemed.

Yet -

G-d so palpable.

His air so holy.

A bond that can not be broken.

A craving that can not be fulfilled.

The pain. Temporary comfort.

The gain. Ultimate relief.

"Okay G-d, You win."

"No My child, tis you who won".

3 comments:

the sabra said...

you love the last line

mishmum said...

ok, so bagrub your mom for loving it.

mishmum said...

Actually I like a lot of it. :)