This one has a different flavor than the ones I've given you so far
yet I feel it is essential that it be seen
By you, dear reader
You who struggles so desperately to grasp the meaning
printed in paper and ink by a stranger
allowing her to touch your mind and soul
without pre-condition or known purpose
it is a very dangerous game to play.
But, if you are like me,
and you strive to hear every call in the wind
to paint your collage of hope and love and truth
please, keep reading on.
One cannot appreciate
the towering oak
if he cannot see the tiny seed
which fueled its growth
and which is, in a sense, what it is and will be
the more fragile and perhaps even more beautiful side
of such a towering, majestic tree.
And this?
this is me.
The diary excerpt I am about to reveal to you
involves a concept which is more controversial, more misunderstood, and yet held more dearly to people than any I've seen.
Please do not be conformed to believe
in anything, or everything, or nothing at all
by the words that I write on this page
For you are who you are
and if you should choose to take a certain path
that is your choice, and please hold it dear.
our choices are who we are.
I believe that no ideology can ever be real to you
wholeheartedly and honestly
unless you have contrived it yourself.
Yet, the storyteller strives to speak truth
and the song the storyteller sings
is not edited to fit the ears of its beholders
so, read, if you wish
or don't if you do not
or read and agree,
or read and disagree,
or don't read and tell yourself that don't regret not reading,
or stand with no feet upon the icy realms of curiosity until it beckons you so determinedly that you come back and read again.
So, here goes:
There is so much beauty in this world. It is incredible to me how much there is standing before us, so patiently waiting for us to open our eyes.
Every bird has a tree to sleep in, every tree has a patch of its own, and in several small moments, when I will close my eyes to drift and dream, and leave the pen and paper within my moving hands to succumb to the tempting call of slumber, it is in warmth and comfort and love that I will let go.
The essence of all embraces me, and I welcome its call with such joy. For I am It, and It is me. We are connected by what dwells within us, though we walk upon separate lands.
The beautifully orchestrated tapestries of time and of days sing as they fill up their cups with wine. It is sweet and kind and wonderful and good. It beckons and I hear its cry.
Oh, G-d,
creator of everything,
You are One,
the Great Bestower of love
One,
in the Heavens and the Earth
One who sings
in fish and in lions and in doves
We are connected by what You have placed within me, and also by all that I can see. For everything holds its spark of You which shines when You call its everlasting name.
Please, don't hide Your face from me. My hands are weak, and I feel so alone. Take me on Your wing and I will fly. Hold me in Your arms and I will not quiver. For You are my comfort, my everything and all. Your Essence lies within me, and I feel it.
It pounds beneath my heart, sees beyond my eyes, fuels my mind with my every thought, yet so often I feel so blind. All Your creations praise You. The sun and the silver moon. The rock on the hill and the mountains so tall, and the rain and the dew and the ocean and clouds. They all declare Your Goodness and Your Mercy.
Each blade of grass and branch of tree, every flower and thorn and bush. Every fruit of the ground which falls from the sky calls to You in its sweet, clear sound.
Every ant and fish and camel, every bird and snake and dove. Every lion bows to greet You, every deer prances to fit Your plan of love.
Every man who walks Your wondrous Earth hears the great shofar and sings Your Great song. Every beggar and tramp and millionaire stands in Your presence and joins as one. Every king bows his head to Your glorious throne, every child and bride, every juggler and clown, each music man beats to Your tune.
For if not by Your Will, they would cease to exist. Each treasures His own part of You.
And I?
I am on of the trillions who walk delicately in Your wake. And as my words touch Your towering gates, please open them for me that I may be be heard.
Like a child, I cry for Your embrace. To enwrap me and hold me and steer me in Your ways. Each moment is a stroke upon a majestic painting. I hold my brush, shaking, in my tentative hands, but You smile and I go on. Please, give me Your wink that I may see Your face. Open my eyes to reality.
"A pure heart create for me, Oh G-d, and a true spirit make new within me."
King David said that
"G-d is Good."
I said that.
