Dedicated to my brother Zev

When I tell you things

it is like planting

a magical garden.

My words the seeds

and your mind

the fertile soil.

I casually throw

a handful your way

and turn around

to see a miracle:

Vine, plants fruit and flowers

as my eyes have never seen!

Speechless I watch them

grow fast


colorful and fragrant

reaching up

beyond the horizon

straight for the highest sky

as if seeking none less

but the Lord

of all the Universe

to offer their beauty

and their prime

at his feet.

Beautiful and silent

in the sweetest prayer

that heeds no denial.