A Song For Natah 2

Oh L-rd. Days come when I think in frustration I'd rather be numb. I thank you G-d for continuing to allow me to feel. In your kindness you carry me even through bumpy rides on East Side highways when my pen shakes like palsy. You have never left me like an abandoned dandelion nor deprived me the ability to feel like the overworked. You have blessed me with a wary awareness and olfactory radar,. Like a lion in his den I live perpetually in royal joy and fear. As the sweet singer of Israel - man, king, hero - photographed it for me early this morning, life is more or less a shadow of death. The bookend worlds to this one form a deep, beautiful valley.

A Song For Natah

There are no wild animals on the roads. And yet I pray to You -oh G-d, to protect me from beasts and thieves.. They live inside me, roar and rob me.

I travel all the time, even while standing still. I travel through my moods, and through the places and atmospheres created by You. It is hard to awaken while walking. Like many people these days, I often walk in sleep. From deep inside me I need badly to stay alert. I am; vulnerable and shaky as an old chair.

Everywhere I go there are people. I turn to You to treat me kindly. I need to turn to them to treat them kindly. Talking a good game can be a game. G-d, please give me strength to do right during these in between times, times that define the worth of a man's life.

- July 2006

27. Inside

p

From a child

Stays the I

You now peek

Find unique

Still wrapped gifts

So many ifs

(-July 2005)

26. Natah

What's in

my name?

A shameful

game

Youth

misquoted

Self

outvoted

25.

Trying to be a good son 
I'm in another cab
Choosing duty over fun
Just put it on my tab

Who am I now I wonder
Riding in between roles
Am I losing life to blunders
Have I crumpled up my goal?

24. Writing Calling

What is my calling? 

The one I hear is writing

Writing takes from other things 

because it sings

out to me, write, write right now, 

write it now

So I write 

because it's like breathing to me

This may sound sad to some, 

maybe to me

but nothing is as much 

like breathing to me as writing

(except from breathing

but I don't hear breathing calling)