The Ant Walked Through The Door

noreply@blogger.com (Mike) — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 09:30:00 +0000

The ant walked through the door,
Which turned into a crescent sword.
The floor heaved, it bounded, it gently billowed,
Entire oceans drained into small wormholes.
Clouds were whisked away
And left skies with stark terror on their faces.
Cars that were driving purposefully
Tumbled into the San Andreas fault.
And no wonder old people tottered fearfully along the undulating boardwalk,
No wonder love shut the slats of its concession stand,
No wonder the Warbasse apartments shuddered,
No wonder buttered toast ceased to thrill the acquisitive mind.
The cat sat in the high cabinet
Meditating thoughtlessly,
The smell of salt was invisible, it rested upon the chestnut trees.
The curious automobiles came and went on their secret rounds,
And Mrs. Bauer stood in her kitchen, preparing chicken.

Mine Are the Eyes of Bar Yochai - by Mendel Weinbach

noreply@blogger.com (Mike) — Tue, 13 May 2008 08:57:00 +0000

Mine are the eyes of Bar Yochai
They see about them
Yet look beyond

They see
a landscape of men serving the earth
which bore them to be its masters
and heirs on that day when all landscapes
will fade into a patient horizon
They look
at these toilers as condemned murders
of time, vengefully strangled by the hands
of a clock whose tireless ticking drowns out
the sweet murmur of eternity

Mine eyes are the eyes of Bar Yochai
They see men
Yet perceive angels

They see
an ancient rushing toward a sunset
which lies on weary earth like
a comforting blanket to be clutched
when weekday nightmare ends.
They look
at the blossoms in that yearning grip
the twin symbols of a frail beauty
that only blooms till another sunset and
fading, leaves a fragrance for lesser days

Mine are the eyes of Bar Yochai
They see foothills
Yet seek mountains

They see
men who are able to find their G-d
whispering to Him their prayer of perfect faith
in a sublime thought or gesture of kindness
which paints His portrait on earthly canvas
They seek
the perfect image of His glory which only
His wisdom and word project on a screen
for mind alone to see -- and seeing, finds
dimensions outlined by heart.

Mine are the eyes of Bar Yochai
They see earth
Yet seek Heaven.

In The Clouds

The Ant Walked Through The Door

Mine Are the Eyes of Bar Yochai - by Mendel Weinbach