Sunday, October 23, 2011
or the whisp of a single cloud
chalk-white, heaven's stroke
calligraphed upon an evening sky?
Is it Arabic I cannot read
or the way persimmon leaves
will turn in the coming weeks
as will my eyes and heart?
Every journey begins
before it begins.
How many seasons we have
prepared for this departure.
May we be the Shalom
May we be the Salam
May we be the Peace we seek.
