To put pictures into words
is as hard as putting words into pictures.
To see eternity in a wall,
or a crooked alley;
to feel legend as real
as the gold color the city clothes itself at sunset.
To use words to capture destiny.
To sometimes see,
but not hear,
feel but not know;
to reach out and realize.
Although everything that happens is infused
with purpose from above,
sometimes events or experiences
only become what they are
through whatever meaning we attach to them from below.
Therefore, doves flying in circles,
the sound of a minyan filtering into the street,
goats grazing on a hillside,
candles in a window,
singing,
crying,
laughing;
any or all these things lead one’s mind
through a thousand stories,
a thousand lives,
a thousand visions to see.
A question is posed:
did all the multitude of prayers spoken day and night
in every corner of the world cause us to return
to the land after two thousand years
or did the inherent destiny of the land cause the prayers that…
Of course a circle is a circle,
but to say that is only the beginning of knowledge.
