Yesterday I visited a priest, an imam, a rabbi and a pauper.
One God.
Three God.
All God.
No God.

And yet today she visited me in the form of a goat. “Baaaa” she called out and I knew it was her. I recognized the accent.
I called “Baaaa” back. With reverence. In jest.
She thought it was funny and ate some grass.
We locked eyes.
It was time.
The kingdom of heaven awaited me.
Ask any questions and answers shall you receive.
And yet I was baaaaaren.
I had paradoxes for the philosophers.
Poetry for the beloved.
But for a goat, unprepared.
“Why do we suffer?” I called out. It was the most I could muster.
Black clouds enveloped the sky. Silence dominated the land.
She looked down to the floor and whispered. “Baa”

You told me you saw God in your ascension to the heavens,
but I await for her arrival in the field,
among the people -
Breaking bread with the broken,
Bearing the burden of belief.

The morning light is peaking
and neither of us can sleep.
Not because we don't want today to end,
But because tomorrow will be the same.

Worse that the fool is the fooled,
Darker than the depths is the fall.

I no longer cry out for unclipped wings,
For now, I too, know why the caged bird sings.

Winter has returned
And I can feel it in my bones
I can taste it in the air.

Like an old friend,
We pick up where we left off —
With an awkward smile
A touch so soft

Ancient Lullabies
Coddle me in my sleep.
Chanting,
“Once upon a time there was Chaos.
And in that Darkness,
The Primordial Man,
The Prophetic Prometheus
Fashioned Fire out of Friction,
Preaching Love to the non-believers.

I hurt because I feel
I feel because I love
I love because I am Love
I love because I choose Love
I love because I hurt.

My world is closing in,
Flooded by doubt
Unprepared for rejection.

Unable to keep back my storm,
I still dare to share in yours.

For I see your struggle - beautiful
Your smile - Salvation

I may be the Word, but you are the Revelation.

Dear Diary,
Today I remember I exist.
Isn’t it funny that I usually forget until I am about to go to sleep.

I made myself a cup of tea, and witnessed the holy wisps of ephemerality returning to the world of ambiguity.

Does it always do that?

You probably think I’m going to express my inner thoughts about how beautiful life is, or better yet, lament the incessant and persistent struggle of pain, but nevertheless find solace in some transcendent nothingness.

Maybe.

I mean, how many poets and philosophers does it take to repeat the sacred mantra –
I am That.

Not me, I am no poet. No philosopher.
No lover of the unloved.
No embracer of the unwanted.

Right now I have no plans.
I am slowly sipping green tea, transitioning between talking to you,
a niggun beckoning me to go out on a search for lost goats on Judean Hills,
and finding childish joy from vanishing smoke.

This may be my greatest poem yet. A true ode to the ineffable.

The interesting thing about remembering is that you totally forget what you were doing before you started remembering.
I wonder what I forgot this time.

I dreamt last night that my Zeidy shouted at me for disgracing the family.

Pain. Unreal. Irrelevant.

If this how Job felt when he remembered he existed?