He will return to the place where never was,
in a day without nights, he will return.
On the last day of winter,
with the white ceiling illuminating his eyes.
He will return.
In the morning when he is absent,
with the same look when they met.
When not one hear they,
When no one feels,
When no one looks at them.
With his hands of leaves and tree,
With a forgotten name,
He will come back.
In the Olam-Haba that he just knew,
on his own Olam-Haba,
They will return.
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC
He will return to the place where never was,
in a day without nights, he will return.
On the last day of winter,
with the white ceiling illuminating his eyes.
He will return.
In the morning when he is absent,
with the same look when they met.
When not one hear they,
When no one feels,
When no one looks at them.
With his hands of leaves and tree,
With a forgotten name,
He will come back.
In the Olam-Haba that he just knew,
on his own Olam-Haba,
They will return.
Olam HaBa, or world to come, the next world after this life, is an important part of Judaism though.
This poem was written in November 2014. It's corrected but, the metaphor is almost the same.
Dedicated to Cesar Simbaina.
