My dreams – strangled, my hopes – trampled / ensnared in shadows.
the spiritual dimension
Last year’s Purim experience taught me a profound lesson: Friendships aren’t built on mishloach manot. Or at least, they shouldn’t be.
For years the mitzvas weren’t mine.
Whenever the time comes that you’re finally swimming in that magnificent sublimely awe-full sea, it will be norah and awfully awesome indeed.
Dear BT, you are a bridge, connecting the different sections of the Jewish community, and you are creating achdut every time you are just, simply, yourself.
The fact that so many people don’t even see the use of poetry any more should be seen as a danger sign, no less than global warming.
It’s a world of addictions today. We’re losing our minds. We haven’t got the freedom to choose what we are recording in our nefesh, and that’s what’s going to remain with us.
We’ll be delivered / It will appear out of nowhere / Like the yona
Wealth or spiritual inspiration?
Which of these two desperate needs would it be? As he weighed the options in his mind, the Rabbi’s words of the night before came back to him
Sometimes a person just needs to keep moving down the road, doggedly moving even when there’s no hope in sight.