Another terror victim has died. She has a remarkable story. This poem is offered up in her memory.
This is the part when your mind wants to fight you. I promise it is worth the struggle. I’ve yet to have anyone regret passing through this gate.
Rachel's assignment? To cover the topic, “Why don’t we talk about Gd enough?”
It’s easy to hide
in the shadows of skipped stitches
in stories woven
by people who are not me.
A poem about yearning for the soul of the soul, for the collective that erases the one, for the wholeness of oneness within the collective, for Gd inside and out.
Your birth anointed me with the pure oil of fatherhood, crowned me with a diadem jeweled with responsibilities and burnished with tears.
