It is too soon
To give up on this notion of death
Now that there is to be rejoicing.
Torah speaks to that.
Before his death,
In reminder to all the people,
By strong hand
And awesome power,
Moshe had shattered the tablets.
Before breath
Completes its cycle,
We read,
Out from the silence of Aleph,
And from all around,
Emunah ushers in
A new creation;
Something never before imagined.
We have been gifted
Vision to see through illusion.
Time is a construct;
Material an artifice;
Impermanence an absolute.
My life,
A flower rising through fecund mycelium
Of time and space.
This poem,
A flower whose life is less than a day,
Also has her moment, and her place.
Take heart
Oh, Lamed,
Final letter of Torah
Through your expiration
Bet is eager to exhale
Her newest creation.
Who are we to imagine
Worlds upon worlds?
Our task is to breathe,
And then,
To not.
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