Wednesday, May 22, 2019

29 toward the Omer

chesed shebhod

What a perplexed poem, I say. Yeah, God says. I don’t know that I agree with it, I say. Me neither, God says. Well, today’s another day, I say.

Is that where you’re gonna leave it? God says. What? I say. Is today just going to be the day that isn’t yesterday? God says. Well, I say, today

is actually already four days ago. Right, God says, we’re somehow in both of those. You know, it can be a gift, I say, to give it your all

and still find something lacking. Depends if you would rather find comfort in things turning out okay or in being blameless, God says. You’ve got me caught, I say.

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