I hear my immortal soul is
In peril! But really, husband,
Peace will not wait for the one who
Tarries. I prefer to fix the world
With my own clumsy hands and if
I don’t survive this wilderness
To live in a just, enlightened
Age, then, at least, my soul will not
Sleep, next to yours, in purgatory,
But will belong to its home
In this universe, the one that
Rises and rests and rises again.
Braided, dough aligns to conform,
So my heart embraces Reform.
Irene Savine: Making Challah In The Year 5769
October 1, 2014 by
