I try to envision My battered soul with All her scrapes and cuts, Bruises and wounds, Scars and broken bits — Courage, fortitude, heart. It would be so easy, Nice, comforting to envision Her in a friendly Casper Manner, or my disembodied Doppelganger, or Clarence Comforting Jimmy Stewart. But I eschew such visions, Or indeed any vision — Floating orb, fleeting Light, pulsating sound — To mix up the false image. Whatever my soul Is, I might know her But I cannot describe her Except that I can say I know she is battered And aches for repair, And come Yom Kippur Will offer the atonement song Praying her Creator Will salve the scrapes And cuts and bruises and Wounds and set aright This broken world. May the Gates remain Always open.
May your aches and pains, both physical and emotional, find peace and relief for the few hours you contemplate them. Tho' you always live with them, I hope as time continues to pass, the pain will be replaced with good memories.
Thank you. Gmar Hatimah Tova.
May your aches and pains, both physical and emotional, find peace and relief for the few hours you contemplate them. Tho' you always live with them, I hope as time continues to pass, the pain will be replaced with good memories.