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How I Came To Study With Rebbe Z (Poem)
three times I came to his door, three times
knocked and knocked until he answered
the first I brought nothing but a quiet entreaty
he turned me away with a shake of his head
the gray skies of autumn and a colding wind
made me shiver as I walked home
the second I offered familial connections
he paused in memory before refusing again
the creak of the ship with its salt-sodden chambers
surrounded me briefly as I stood on his sill
the third I came armed with words that surprised him
keys to a knowledge I should not have known
reluctant but intrigued, he invited me in
a cup of tea, and thus we began,
thus we began, my teacher and I
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Concrete Bridges (Poem)
then a cataclysmic event washes over our world
we find ourselves stunned amidst debris
the illusion of permanence stripped away
in despair we try even more
root our delusions deep into the ground
with harder materials and fortified means
instead we could with newfound awareness
learn from the spider how to build gossamer webs
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The Celadon Cup (Poem)
crackled with beautiful threads
webbed by years passing well, each line a story
whispered lives of master farmers
distant rocky terraces and trees older than human span
infused with craft and love
hands that hold it now, my hands
likewise display patterns of time, historied wrinkles thinning skin
etched by so many memories, moments beyond recall
always, always there is tea
